


The Hardest Thing (Five Times & Once)

by sashach



Series: Five Times & Once [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, English translation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:18:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashach/pseuds/sashach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A special force/military organization AU in which five times Bucky and Steve were together and one time they weren't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imbrian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbrian/gifts).
  * A translation of [The Hardest Thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702150) by [Imbrian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbrian/pseuds/Imbrian). 



> Well, here we are, folks. Last story of this series. Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos. You guys are awesome!
> 
> Imbrian, is not only talented, but also very generous and brave to let me translate this series. God knows I could have ruined their stories with my crappy translation! Please go over to the original stories to leave a kudo or comment if you like the stories!
> 
> [Echo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/menhir/pseuds/menhir) deserves all the love for taking time out of their busy schedule to proofread/edit the translations and making them less crappy and more acceptable. Thank you for being ever so patient and encouraging.

They were a troop under the shadow United Nations, no one knew the real reason for their existence. According to the shadow UN, the troop’s mission was to ensure whatever should happen in this world happened as and when it should. They were not justice, they were not evil. If you asked Steve Rogers, he’d say they were just henchmen; killers with no souls.

To ensure whatever should happen in this world happened "as and when it should” was a very general way of putting it. Their job scope included taking out politicians and attacking organizations. These attacks could be coordinated assaults or cyber warfare; some were massive in scale, while some required only one or two people to do the job. In any case, there were approximately one hundred and fifty members in the troop. Apart from ten assassins, the other one hundred and forty persons included sixty military and thirty each from the air force and the navy. There were also twenty persons in logistics and management.

These people had only one characteristic: they didn’t exist in the world.

One required census records to exist: place of birth, nationalities of their parents, etc. With this information, one could then be put on the grid like coordinates. Who were your parents, where were you born, where did you grow up, where did you go to school? More often than not, these were the fundamental things people asked when they were getting to know someone.

The ages of the one hundred and fifty member troop ranged from twenty to fifty years old. One was required to be of age in order to join the troop. After fifty, since one was fortunate enough to survive that long in an organization with such a high elimination rate, one could retire to the Island to be a trainer, or to be part of a foster family that took care of the orphans who had newly joined the organization to be trained as soldiers.

Orphans. Steve Rogers was such an orphan. He was sent to a foster home when his parents were killed in a car accident. He was small and thin and was dumped next to a Nevada highway, beaten half dead. But when he woke up, he was on a sunny tropical island, in a sunlit room with shadows of palm trees dancing on the floor.

Steve Rogers died at the age of fifteen. Occasionally Steve would find his death certificate among the files and in passing he would recall how his rescuers, George Barnes and Winifred Barnes, had told him the story about how he came to the Island.

He was dead and his body was never found, but his foster parents were sentenced to death by the federal court for the murder of many children. Those who went missing were presumed dead and the statement given by his foster parents had indicated expressly that they had killed Steve Rogers and dumped his body in the desert. No one had thought that Steve Rogers would survive.

It was a coincidence. George had just finished his meeting with the shadow UN and was driving an inconspicuous black Ford Mondeo, concealing himself among the heavy morning traffic in America, when he found Steve on the verge of dying. He took the boy back to their safe house without second thought and tried to get an unlicensed doctor to save Steve’s life. He later took Steve back with him to the Island.

And so Steve began a new page in his life. George and Winifred were members of the troop: George was an assassin and Winifred was a member of the logistics division on the Island. Most of the trainee soldiers started their education at the age of eight until they turned eighteen. Their fundamental subjects were essentially languages. When they got older, they had to learn chemistry, astronomy, and geology to prepare themselves for future missions. Then they proceeded to international relations and government analysis in order to understand the current political climate before they went on missions.

Steve learned languages with students younger than him; astronomy, chemistry, and geology with three others around his age. If he wanted to move up to management level, he could study at universities around the world under an alias when he turned eighteen. But the choices were limited and he couldn’t choose what his predecessors had chosen. For any management position, only one student could go back to the world to acquire the related knowledge.

For example, they had a reserved supreme commander at West Point and a councilor studying at Harvard.

But there hadn’t been a trainee for head of medicine. No one was really interested because going to med school was too much trouble. Winifred’s daily responsibility was to take care of the trainee soldiers, ranging from infants to nineteen year olds. There were altogether twenty of them, and the only infant was Winifred and George’s son, James Buchanan Barnes.

George was born an orphan, but Winifred wasn’t. She had fallen in love with George and joined the organization by faking her death, and because of that she could never leave the Island for the rest of her life. She had told Steve the agony of leaving her family—letting them think she was dead and letting them mourn her death. She was alive but she couldn’t have any contact with them. When there was internet, she read about her sister getting married and then divorced on social media, but she couldn’t be by her side.

Winifred gave birth to a baby girl, Rebecca, when James was one.

With the Barneses, Steve was positive he would never miss the memories of living with a foster family.

He had friends on the Island, and his new family: George and Winifred, Rebecca, and James. Or Bucky, that was what Steve called the little baby with big, beautiful eyes like a new born buck. When he wasn’t in classes, Steve would carry the baby and take him everywhere. In comparison to his friends, Bucky was more like the missing piece in Steve’s heart.

A childhood without affection was the most cruel thing and Steve didn’t want Bucky to grow up in a mean family like his.

Steve was the one to witness Bucky’s first steps and first word. Winifred was busy with work, while George was on the other side of the world; but Steve would take Bucky and Rebecca to play on the beach of the Island. He would stop Rebecca from putting sand in her mouth, or fish Bucky out from the sea and wipe him dry with a towel.

Bucky may have been young, but to Steve, he was his best friend. Sometimes when Steve got disheartened from language lessons, he would practice repeatedly in front of Bucky and Bucky always smiled at him. The boy didn’t understand a single word but he never made fun of Steve.

Physical training was the most demanding part of the training for trainee soldiers. Non-physical classes usually finished at two in the afternoon, but the hell of physical training followed right behind at half past two. Under the scorching sun, the training would start with running around the Island, then split jumps, sit-ups, and push-ups. Those were just starters. Once they had gotten used to the routine, they would then have put on heavy gear for the next level of training. It was grueling. But Steve persevered and stuck it out. At first he couldn’t catch up with his peers who had been training since they were young, but he tried his best to push himself forward.

When he got home, exhausted and dead on his feet, Steve would still go to Bucky’s room to take a look at his sleeping face. The one face in this world that made him feel most at peace.

The one person in this world he wanted to protect most.

When it was time for Steve to be assigned to a new unit, George, as his mentor, reminded him to consider his interests and that he didn’t have to follow in George’s footsteps. Steve didn’t think he had much chance of getting into the Predators. He had grown tall and strong in the last five years—thanks to logistics on the Island for their gourmet meals, comparable to any Michelin three star restaurant, and the high intensity physical training—but assassination was a highly complex skill, and in George’s opinion Steve was evidently not qualified.

“Maybe the military?” Steve quirked his brow and stooped down, ready to catch Bucky who was running into his embrace. “I think the military isn’t bad.”

“The military has been working in North Korea and Russia in the last few years. Think you can handle that?” George glanced at his son who, once clung to Steve, refused to let go. “Easy, Bucky. Easy. You’re going to hurt Steve.”

Quick as a wink, Bucky put a peck on Steve’s cheek. “Stevie, you finished training!”

“Yeah, I’ve finished training.” The arms around Bucky tightened. The one bad thing about joining the military was he had to leave Bucky and go somewhere far away; but now Rebecca was old enough to play with Bucky, Steve didn’t feel he was much needed anyway. “I’m talking to your father, can you come down for a sec?” Bucky had a bad habit: every time he got his hands on Steve’s head, he would give him a peck or two, or pull his ears. Being used to it all, Steve didn’t get annoyed or anything. George, on the other hand, wouldn’t stand for his son’s barbaric manners.

“No, I don’t wanna go down! I like it here. Stevie’s the best!” With that he planted a kiss on Steve’s temple with a loud smack. “Let’s go play, Stevie! We have to find fifty seashells to make necklaces for Rebecca and mommy!”

“Why don’t you wait for me at the beach? I’ll be right behind you.” He wanted to put the boy down, but Bucky clung onto him even tighter. Exhaling a sigh, Steve patted his own shoulders and Bucky changed his position from an octopus hug to climb up to sit on the blond’s shoulders. Satisfied, Bucky settled his chin on the top of Steve’s head and grinned at his father.

“You’re absolutely uncontrollable, kid.” George frowned. “Winifred and I thought about it. We want to take Bucky and Becca back to America, if possible. The Gods rejected my request previously, but I’ll continue to fight for it no matter what. And you, too. Think about the kind of life you truly want, Steve. Killing people isn’t interesting at all.”

“Of course.” Steve nodded, causing the boy who’d settled his chin on the top of his head to bob his head as well.

“There’ll be an open selection tomorrow. I understand that every unit wants you. Except for the Predators, there’s no unit that I don’t recommend.”

“What about the Gods?” Steve looked at George carefully after asking the question. “Are the Gods chosen the same way?”

“Of course. Although I’m not sure if they have any intention of choosing anyone this year. I don’t know any of them, and I have no means of finding out.” George patted his shoulder. “As long as you think it through.”

If he chose logistics, he could stay on the Island. Steve let Bucky run along the beach to search for sea shells while he regarded the scenery of the Island. He couldn’t cook very well, but there was always the need for manpower on the Island. But what would George think? Steve had been trained by George personally. By right he should want to join the troop.

The military. If he joined the military, what would his code name be? It was said that it would be given by their mentor. George wouldn’t make fun of him, would he?

“Bucky, what animal do I remind you of?” Sitting on the beach with his little buddy, Steve was making holes in shells with an awl. “One that doesn’t fly, doesn’t swim, and doesn’t eat meat…”

“You’re a stag!” Bucky replied quickly. “You’re a stag! If I’m a buck, then you’re a stag!”

“Am I?” Steve gave him the shell after making a hole on it. “Then what’s your dad?”

“He’s a black panther! You know that!” Bucky pushed more shells in front of Steve. “You’re a stag. I’m a buck.”

“Yeah, okay.” He didn’t know why Bucky made that decision, but Steve accepted it with a grin.

He was later assigned to the military and as Bucky had predicted his code name was Stag. He set out for Siberia on the second day of his appointment. The communication officer later delivered a message from Winifred, saying Bucky understood that he was away for work like his father, but Steve must promise to come see him immediately when he returned to the Island; he must not go anywhere else before that and he must not leave without saying goodbye again.

What about mission report?

But on the eve before Steve completed his first mission, they received intel that the Island was under attack and the team decided to have one person stay back and finish the job while the rest of them returned to the Island to provide back up.

Steve got back to the Island to find carnage and destruction and the bodies of Winifred, George, and Rebecca—and Bucky, who had lost his left arm. Taking Bucky with him, the entire troop and what was left of logistics moved on to search for new headquarters in the South Pacific. During this period, the Predators from the assassination team continued to go on missions while the navy search team found a new island. The construction would take five years, so most of them were sent to live in safe houses scattered all over the place with their fake identities over the next five years.

Steve undertook the responsibility of looking after Bucky. He was there for Bucky to overcome his phantom limb pains and nightmares, he also took charge of Bucky’s education. Steve was rather good with German and French, but Bucky hated language lessons. In fact, Bucky hated to do anything since they moved to the safe house. He cried most of the time, asking Steve why he didn’t come and rescue him and Rebecca.

Steve let him be. He let Bucky vent all his emotions and nurtured him with utmost tolerance. After a year, Bucky seemed calmer, but he had also become taciturn, far from the vivacious kid he’d used to be. The lack of one limb made him the center of attention in the park. The other children were afraid to be around him, and most of the time he sat alone in the shadows of the slides, not playing with anyone.

The neighbors thought Steve was a single dad and showered him with concern. Meals were cooked and put at Steve’s door and he accepted their kindness. Bucky was, after all, still young and needed nutrition; what Steve made may have been nutritious, but hardly delicious.

During the construction of the Island, Steve and Bucky lived in Brooklyn where Steve worked as a construction worker. He sent Bucky to the nursery in their neighborhood when he went to work. Luckily, it wasn’t long before Bucky moved on to elementary school. Bucky could write with his right hand and didn’t require much assistance, so the school didn’t need to give him any other support. For after school activities, Bucky could only choose non-sporting activities and he chose to learn Spanish. Steve knew his parents spoke fluent Spanish, so he started to learn the language with Bucky.

Every day before Bucky went to school, Steve would help him with his rehabilitation therapy. Bucky was still growing and he would still be one of the trainee soldiers in future; his upper left arm shouldn't be left to dwindle and become inactive. Therapy was tough for Bucky, but not once did he shed a tear. After school he would prepare simple snacks for himself and go to the Indian neighbor opposite to do his homework with his classmate. His grades in school were outstanding and his vocabulary was more advanced than any of the other kids. By the time he was in fourth grade, the school principal had a meeting with Steve and asked him if he’d like Bucky to skip a grade or two.

Steve rejected the proposal. He thought Bucky would be happier with kids of his age.

Most of the kids in school accepted the fact Bucky had lost an arm, but he remained quiet, not saying much. However, when it came to working with other kids in group projects, he was always willing to take on more responsibility. Steve would help Bucky draw posters when he got back from work and his drawings were better than anyone’s. Once, they had to talk about bears in science class and Steve drew a huge brown bear on the poster and Bucky was the envy of his classmates.

In the last year of elementary school, Steve got news from the troop asking them to get ready to relocate to the new headquarters. For the first time, Steve was hesitant with his orders. He thought about the principal’s suggestion for Bucky to skip grades and George’s wish for his family to start a new life in America, refusing to be non-existent in the world.

“So now I’m James Barnes Rogers?” Steve had just gotten back from work as Bucky walked to him. “The Gods have allowed me to be your son?”

Steve looked at him with confusion. “Isn’t that great? Hey, I’m Stag and you’re Bucky.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky stomped back into his room with rage. When it was time for dinner, Steve heated up mac and cheese made by a neighbor and went to get him.

But it was only when Steve was taking his shower in the bathroom did he hear the sounds of Bucky padding out from his bedroom for dinner.

The next morning, Bucky left the apartment without waiting for Steve to do therapy with him. It happened to be Steve’s day off that day and he went to school to pick Bucky up. He saw Bucky coming out with his friends from afar and he waved at Bucky, but the boy ignored him completely. Then Bucky’s friends said something to him and after a couple of exchanges, Bucky walked toward Steve unwillingly.

“I said you’re not my dad. Are we gonna be in trouble?” asked Bucky with a twang of distress.

“Um…” Steve stooped down a little to look at his little buddy. “If a grown man has a kid living with him and they’re not related, people will definitely talk; but we’re leaving soon, so…”

“Are we going to the new Island?” Bucky lifted his gaze nervously. “Will you be there? Are you still going on missions?”

“I have to go on missions,” Steve replied softly. “But I promise you’ll be perfectly safe, okay?”

“Can’t I go with you? I won’t be found. I’ll hide—”

“No, Bucky, you can’t,” Steve rejected him flatly. “I promise I’ll come back, I promise I won’t—”

“Mum and Dad promised, too!” Furious, Bucky hit Steve with his right fist. “Promises are bullshit!”

The kids in the neighborhood cursed and swore a lot. Steve knew Bucky had learned to talk like that to fit in and he’d never stopped him when they were in private; but Bucky had never said anything inappropriate in front of his teachers. “I promise I’m with you till the end of the line, okay? I promise.”

“I don’t want promises, Steve, I just wanna be with you,” Bucky said the words, one by one. “You’re my family, Steve. Why can’t we live together? Why do we have to go back to the Island?”

Steve thought in silence for a while. He knew what he should do to get Bucky out of the Island, but he’d have to have a meticulous plan. “Bucky, we can live together, but we have to go back to the Island for now. I promise you, we’ll leave very soon. When you’re eighteen, or before you turn twenty, we have to live on the Island, okay? It’s just another eight or seven years.” Can you wait for me for another eight years?

Unwillingly, Bucky nodded.

Two weeks later Bucky was absent from school for three days and his teacher came to look for him at the apartment with the police.

The apartment was empty except for a huge amount of blood.

When they returned to the new Island, Steve asked Bucky if he wanted a room for himself. Bucky was, after all, entering puberty and he was old enough to take care of himself. And even though he and Steve had lived together in the safe house, they weren't as close as they had been when Bucky was a kid. The dark shadows of the attack had contributed to that; and the inevitable awkwardness between parents and their children when the latter grew older.

Steve hadn't been able to regard George and Winifred as his parents when he first arrived on the Island. They were, at most, the big brother and his wife; and neither had George and Winifred ever treated Steve with the authority of an elder. Steve, however, had to educate Bucky like a parent on their behalf, whether Bucky liked it or not. Steve had spent a lot of time in the safe house to establish regularity and routine into Bucky’s life, but he knew how blandly Bucky ignored him with his passive resistance. Thinking that Bucky would like to spend more time with his peers, Steve suggested he could move into the dormitory for trainee soldiers instead of living with him in the suite allotted by the troop.

“You’re kicking me out,” said Bucky flatly.

Wistfully, Steve tried to calm down the angry brunet, who was packing his things, and then helped him hang the clothes back into the closet one by one.

Steve hadn’t been able to master Spanish initially, even though the grammar was less complicated than German, and now he was chided by his teammates for picking up said language while he was taking care of Bucky. Waving the topic away with a smile, Steve started out to the Middle East with the team. This time their mission was to infiltrate the Seals to seek revenge on behalf of the U.S. government. Although he was working for an obscure organization, Steve thought it was abnormally sick for the Seals to install video cams on their helmets so politicians could witness first hand images of the leader of a terrorist organization paying for what he did with blood.

Perhaps there was no paradise in this world in which Bucky could live happily.

After he'd returned from his second mission, Steve made a request to the Predators for a transfer. For the next three years, he did every dirty deed possible.

Steve tried to finish his missions in two months and then spend one month with Bucky, but the teenager didn’t seem to need the companionship of his guardian. Even when they were in the same room, Bucky hardly looked him in the eyes and Steve felt as if he was talking to air because Bucky seldom gave him an answer with more than a couple of sentences. No one had said parenting was an easy task. Steve couldn’t help but smile ruefully.

Fifteen year old Bucky began to grow in height and the head of medicine had also increased the intensity of therapy for his left arm. Steve would sometimes see tears of pain escaping Bucky’s eyes. The therapy was necessary so that what remained of the left arm would grow stronger for the fitting of a prosthetic arm in future.

Sometimes, late at night, due to the humid climate of the Island, Bucky would wake up in pain and Steve was always there to comfort him.

An ice cold towel to minimize the discomfort, or a gentle massage on the boy’s stump.

Bucky went back to the little boy that he had been in the middle of the night, clinging tight to Steve when he came to him, crying his heart out.

But when dawn came, Bucky put on the facade of a teenager again. He took the clothes that Steve handed him standoffishly, went running with Steve with the same standoffish air and remained the same after they’d freshened up and sat down for breakfast together at the cafeteria. Even when he was done and headed off for classes, Bucky didn’t bother to say a word. Steve usually let him be and only called out to him when he was going on a mission.

“I’ll be back in two months.”

The last assassination mission was to take out an ex-official of the shadow UN. The man was responsible for ordering the attack on the Island in order to annihilate the troop. Steve wasn't an advocate for violence; it was best to complete the mission with succinct efficiency. But when he thought about the Barneses and their daughter, and Bucky, who had lost his arm, and his friends who were dead, and their children, Steve strangled the man to death with his bare hands. On his way back, he found a safe and secretive channel to do a mission report and at the same time brought up his inclination to be transferred to the Gods. The Gods wanted him to cover for Black Mamba Nicky Fury and take charge of the Predators for a year and they would do an evaluation after that.

No mission for a year. Steve returned to the suite and found Bucky studying. He walked toward him with happy strides and patted his head.

“Hey, I’m gonna be with you for the next year, and I’m probably not gonna leave you again. Happy?”

Bucky lifted his gaze to him for a moment, not believing his words.

“Seriously.” Steve leaned against the desk and lowered his head to look at Bucky’s right hand writing. His hand was so much bigger now. So different from the chubby little hands that used to cover his eyes when they were walking. “I remember the promise I made you. We’ll let you leave, you know? I’ll let you leave the Island.”

Bucky squinted. There was something off about Steve’s words, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

He had more important things to tell Steve. First off, Steve had to stop with that fatherly behavior. Bucky ducked his head and avoided Steve’s hand. Hand hanging mid-air, Steve looked hurt. He was about to take back his hand when Bucky reached out to grab it. Bucky had been waiting for the right moment to lay his cards on the table with Steve. He didn’t want Steve to get distracted while he was out on missions. If what Steve said was true, that meant Steve had no chance of avoiding him. This was the moment to spill.

“Steve, I like you.”

Steve Rogers frowned. He couldn’t find a single word to say.

 

X

 

A teenager.

The impatient councilor wanted to kick Steve Rogers out. Whoever a sixteen year old boy liked was not under his jurisdiction.

“I can’t acknowledge him, councilor. I’m like his father.”

“In many countries, a sixteen year old is sexually independent. If you do care, you could wait for him to turn eighteen.” The councilor was straightforward.

“That’s not the point, I can’t—”

“You’re his guardian, not his biological father. There’s no ‘you can’t,’ but whether or not you want to.” The councilor knocked at the door impatiently. “If you’re not interested, you have to tell him straight. Your teenager is very popular here. The sooner you tell him, the sooner he gives up and finds himself someone else. Or, like you, he’ll sacrifice and dedicate himself in fostering trainee soldiers.”

Steve Rogers sat in his spot unmoving, one hand supporting his heavy head. He would rather stay here, or be sent to jail.

Just, not back to the suite.

Bucky should be done with his training and he’d be studying in his room now. He’d probably be asleep later. But Steve had fled in defeat and Bucky would definitely be waiting for him to give him an answer. He could be more stubborn than anyone else when he wanted to be. His Bucky.

He only had himself to blame for spoiling the boy. Steve had no choice but to go back to the suite. Hair dripping wet, Bucky had just showered and was wearing Steve’s grey t-shirt, sitting on the floor of their tiny living room, staring at Steve as he entered the space.

Steve pulled a towel from the shelf, walked to Bucky, and started to dry his hair. Bucky didn’t make a sound.

“Bucky, you’re like my son,” said Steve softly. “I love you, but I can’t reciprocate your feelings.”

“I’m not your son, Rogers,” said Bucky coldly. “I was never your son. My father is George Barnes, my mother is Winifred Barnes, if I remember clearly.”

“I love you, Bucky.” Steve pressed a kiss on Bucky’s head over the towel. He still got upset every time Bucky gave him the cold shoulder.

“Prove it to me, Steve.” Bucky held Steve’s hand and peered into his eyes. “Steve.”

Steve leaned over and kissed him and then caressed his neck gently. “You have to think it through, Bucky. Think it through.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for ten years, what’s there to think?” Bucky protested as he circled his arms around Steve’s neck and requested another kiss.

This time Steve stroked his cheeks. “Attachment is different from love, Bucky. Have you thought about your feelings for me? If I can’t discern my feelings for you, how could you differentiate yours for me?”

Without another word, Bucky tipped up his chin and kissed Steve.

 

X

 

Every day was torture now, thought Steve. Bucky seemed to have gone back to his five year old self, badgering him every day.

Sitting in the conference room were some of the rare moments when Steve wasn’t around Bucky; and of course when Bucky was in classes. But when night came, Bucky would always be by his side. The teenager who used to avoid Steve and keep as far away from him as possible would now lay next to Steve when he got home and settle his head on Steve’s thigh to study.

Steve was at loss where to put his hands, so he placed them on the back of the couch, but Bucky grabbed hold of one hand and settled it on his collarbone like a scarf. Steve jerked inadvertently and Bucky’s head also jolted; just like when he was little. Steve relaxed and allowed his hand to stay gently on Bucky.

He should be protecting Bucky, not hurting him, said the voice in Steve’s heart.

Very slowly, Steve propped up Bucky’s head and put a pillow in place of his thigh.

Bucky glared at his action in annoyance. To placate the teenager, Steve gave him a kiss on the forehead, soft as the flutter of a butterfly.

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

But the suite was only so big. Steve and Bucky shared a bunk bed; Steve took the lower bunk. He climbed on his bed, pulled up his blanket and got ready for sleep.

But Bucky refused to make things easy for him. The moment Steve had laid down, Bucky simply dumped his book on the couch, walked to the bed and squeezed himself next to Steve. Before the blond could stop him, Bucky had already curled himself into a ball. With the lack of a left arm, Bucky was able to make himself even smaller, so he positioned himself on the right hand side of the blond.

With a sigh, Steve stretched out his right arm for Bucky pillow his head on it, then he tucked the brunet to his chest, ready to sleep.

Bucky giggled with satisfaction. In the darkness, his reached out his right hand to smooth Steve’s hair, then settling his head on the blond’s chest, he closed his eyes blissfully.

The last thing that flashed across Steve’s mind before he fell asleep was: the bed would be too small for the two of them when Bucky grew taller.

Waking up in the morning was the most awkward moment. Steve’s way of dealing with it was to head for the bathroom as quickly as possible, but Bucky wasn’t going to let him off easily.

Bucky grabbed hold of Steve’s arm the moment he stood up, and the brunet’s line of sight came to the bulge tenting his underwear.

“You do know this is a normal condition,” Steve explained ruefully. Bucky was sixteen, how could he not know?

Steve had tried to give Bucky “the talk” when he was thirteen, but he’d merely made the sound of the letter “s,” and Bucky just rolled his eyes and walked away. Since then Steve kept a box of condoms in the bathroom without saying another word. Logistics had looked at him with reproach and Steve had explained to them more than twice that he requested those just in case Bucky needed them. No, they were not for him and Bucky—he wasn’t a pedophile.

He never was and he didn’t intend to be one now.

“I know.” Bucky sighed. He smoothed his long hair, which needed to be cut, stood up, and walked past Steve to use the bathroom first.

For a moment, Steve was perplexed. Did he just make a teenager sigh?

What grown man, what guardian would let a sixteen year old teenager sigh in his face?

Steve knocked at the door. Bucky was holding the toothbrush in his mouth, using his one hand to tie his hair with agility. Feeling a twinge of ache in his heart, Steve moved forward and took over the job of tying Bucky’s hair. Bucky regarded Steve’s reflection in the mirror for a moment and shifted his free hand to the toothbrush and continued to brush his teeth. He never stopped looking at Steve’s reflection.

“Is it gonna be like that?” Steve asked softly. “If you’re gonna share a bed with me, we could get a double bed.”

Bucky spat out the foam in his mouth, rinsed, then turned around and replied with resolution, “I want a double bed.”

Steve nodded and kissed his cheek.

When it was his turn to brush his teeth, the teenager asked without warning, “So will you embrace me?”

The question made Steve choke on the toothpaste, causing a coughing fit. “…Hug?”

“Maybe you don’t have to think too much about it.” Bucky pulled down the towel next to him and wiped the corners of Steve’s mouth. He’d been growing recently and soon he would be tall enough to look at Steve at eye level. “Ignore feelings, it’s just sex.”

“Bucky, how can there be sex without feelings?” Steve was utterly confused. He gurgled a mouthful of water and rinsed out the toothpaste. “I’m not thinking too much, Bucky. You’re my family, we’re literally—”

Bucky waved his hand to cut him off. He didn’t want to listen any longer, so he turned to leave the tiny bathroom that could barely accommodate the two of them. “Forget it. You know what? I can go find someone else.”

But the next second, he was suddenly pulled back. With a tone that was nervous and worried, laced with a trace of jealousy, his guardian demanded, “Who?”

The emotions in those eyes weren’t too overwhelming, not too indifferent, but just enough for Bucky to keep going. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss on Steve’s face. This was good enough. “No one.” When the kiss lifted, Bucky said slowly, “There’ll never be such a person, Steve.”

Steve was awed by the voice whispering in his ear. He turned to regard Bucky, who was sporting a proud grin. Suddenly, Steve was powerless with his very honest and yet very shameful reaction. During training in the troop, it was common for one to repress their sexual desires. After a mission, some of them would disappear into the red light districts in a certain country, some would go back to the Island as soon as possible to embrace their lovers, and then there were some like Steve, devoting their love to someone who wasn’t related to them by blood.

Bucky had barely reached Steve’s hip when he five, but today when he was tying the brunet’s hair, he’d already had to raise his hands up to do so.

Bucky would grow up. Steve just couldn’t get over that.

“Eighteen, okay?” said Steve despondently. He remembered his conversation with the councilor. “Eighteen years old?”

Bucky’s brows furrowed. “Two years?” Then he shook his head as if he shouldn’t make a scene about the situation. Instead he cupped Steve’s face with a hand and protested unhappily, “I’m a teenager, remember?”

A cryptic growl emerged from Steve’s throat. He dipped his head toward Bucky and gave him an unprecedented kiss.

Steve entered Bucky’s mouth, curling his tongue against the brunet’s. He trapped Bucky’s head with both hands to prevent him from escaping, as if demanding him to accept his first lesson in sexual desires from an adult. The kiss was like a punishment: Steve was the one demanding while Bucky could only accept what was given to him. Steve withdrew his tongue and as if yearning for more, licked the inside of Bucky’s mouth before he let go of him slowly.

Pressing their foreheads together, Steve said in a low voice, “Don’t start, son. Don’t start what you can’t finish…”

“I told you I’m not your—”

“You’re my love.” Steve fixed his gazed at Bucky firmly. “And my motive. If I’m willing to do anything…”

All those killings, those bloody contracts, those tumultuously violent activities.

But if eventually Bucky could be given his freedom, Steve was willing to do anything and everything.

“So, of course, I want to hug you.” Steve pressed his lips against Bucky’s and this time the kiss was tender and deep. When the kiss ended, Steve caressed Bucky, who was still engrossed in the kiss. Those beautiful eyes were bright and smiling because of his response.

Steve sighed. He let go of Bucky and gently pushed him out of the tiny bathroom.

“Seventeen, no more bargain.”

 

X

 

“You promised a teenager you’ll sleep with him when he turned seventeen.” The huge blond laughed with disbelief. “Wow!”

“Thor, what I want is your advice.” Agonized, Steve looked at the head of medicine next to him, who had thrown him a look of disdain. By the end of the day, the entire Island would hear about the king size bed he’d ordered for the suite he shared with Bucky. Of course the bed was still in some faraway country; but when the head of general affairs repeated his request unintentionally, then repeated it again—but this time staring at him with saucer wide eyes—Steve simply gave up and nodded to confirm his request to change beds.

“I’d say that’s wonderful.” Thor took a bite of a banana imported from Southeast Asia. “You and your little friend have finally established your relationship. Isn’t that wonderful?” But he still couldn’t help with the teasing. “You and the little kid, whose diapers you used to change, are going to—”

“I looked after him, but I never changed his diapers, okay?” Disposable diapers weren’t available on the Island. Steve only learned about those when he and Bucky were living in the safe house. “Winifred was the one who changed his diapers.” With a slap of his hand, Steve covered his face and groaned. “Oh god, now you’ve reminded me of Winnie and George!”

“That wasn’t my intention.” Thor smiled. “But look on the bright side. This may have been destined to happen. You might have had to kneel down before George and beg him not to kill you before sleeping with his son, or be killed by George when he found out that you’d slept with his son. Now they’re both gone, leaving you to take care of their son. It’s been ten or eleven years. If their grown son is willing to take care of you and spend the rest of his life with you, I don’t see why they would object to that.”

They were dead. Steve managed a painful smile. “But it’s not like they had a choice.”

“Tell your little friend if he wants to join the medical team, I’m always willing to be his mentor.” Thor patted his best friend’s shoulder. “The other day when the four of them came for career exploration, Bucky seemed interested in logistics. Of course, he doesn’t have much choice to begin with.” Thor sighed. “But the medical team does need him. He’s good with children, seeing how he coaxed them when he was there.”

Because Bucky used to take care of Rebecca. One little kid taking care of an even littler kid. Even before he’d learned how to stand, Bucky knew how to coax Rebecca with kisses. The kid had been a kissing maniac.

Steve was wrong. He was still a kissing maniac even after he’d grown up.

The moment he opened the door, Steve was attacked by Bucky’s passionate kiss. The brunet jumped onto him and he could only support his hips with his hands. In between their kisses, Steve let go with one hand, gesturing Bucky to tuck his legs tighter, or else he couldn’t hold him any much longer no matter how strong he was. Bucky was growing, transforming from a boy into a man.

Or some unidentifiable organism that was driving him crazy.

Yesterday the boy had only kissed his cheeks without pushing any further, but today the kiss escalated to seducing him with the tip of his tongue right from the beginning.

“What have you learned from the internet?” And even so, Steve still put him on the upper bunk. With a sigh, he went to the bathroom and locked the door.

Bucky might have been staring at the door from the moment he went in to the moment he came out.

“Why do you have to take things into your own hands in the bathroom?” Bucky asked coldly. “I’m right here.”

“Maybe because you still have one year to go before you turn seventeen?” Steve lifted his shoulder to wipe off the cold water on his face.

“There’re other ways—”

“And to me they are all sex. They’ll have to wait till you’re seventeen.”

“You’re incongruous.”

He had taken his line. Steve raised an eyebrow and walked over to Bucky, motioning him to lean toward him. He picked up the brunet, carried him to the couch and settled down with him. For the next hour, their lips were locked together and their tongues danced around each other. Steve gave his all to kiss Bucky and by a certain point, he heard Bucky’s rough breathing and aroused moans. Then Steve looked on with satisfaction as Bucky disappeared inside the bathroom without a word. He turned on the tv happily. The huge satellite tower on the Island received satellite channels from all over the world. There was more than enough for them view, for free.

 

X

 

Since that night, Bucky presented him with a new challenge every day.

Today’s challenge was making him answer how were they trained to handle sexual temptations.

“How did it feel?”

Steve scratched his face and continued to read his files. He knew this day would come, he’d just hoped that Natasha wouldn’t go into too many details with the trainee soldiers about the ten day training on sexual temptation. “Just—”

“Maybe I should join the troop?” said Bucky softly. “So that I won’t be fooled by you after training.”

 _You have to be twenty for the training._ Steve didn’t want to make fun of Bucky, so he explained gently, “I’m not trying to fool you.”

“Aren’t you using the techniques that you’ve learned to—”

“I didn’t learn any technique.” Steve put down his pen and gestured Bucky to come over and straddle his lap. With familiar intimacy, Steve leaned to kiss the span of skin between Bucky’s neck and shoulder, the part revealed under the collar of Bucky’s white shirt. “Those things have nothing to do with the gestures you lavish on your lover.”

Those techniques were only used to extract leads and information. It was entirely different from this daily contradicting struggle he was trying to stay away from.

Bucky cradled Steve’s neck with his right hand and tucked his head on the right side of his shoulder.

Steve was his alone, thought Bucky. Steve would only belong to him in future. He had no reason to fret over a past he was unable to be part of because he was a kid. Steve loved him. Steve had said so.

Steve drew circles on Bucky’s back for a while and then rolled the chair over to the window to let him look at the view over the cliff outside.

But lo and behold, someone opened the door to report to Steve.

“Steve—oh oh oh—Sorry to interrupt—”

Damn, it was the Falcon! Before Steve could say a word, Sam Wilson, code name Falcon, had already closed the door and left.

Great, now he would never be able to clean up his barely there reputation. Steve exhaled a long sigh. Bucky let go of his hand around Steve, leaned on one side of the chair’s arm and gazed at Steve.

With a little grin, he stretched out his hand to smooth Steve’s neat hair. The grin deepened.

Steve looked at Bucky’s grin and saw in his eyes profound affection and possessiveness. He reckoned there wasn’t much difference in his eyes, either.

He surged forward and sealed Bucky’s lips with his. While Falcon was out there publicizing what he’d just witnessed, Steve assumed no one would come and bother him with any business in the next hour or so. He might as well make full use of it and enjoy a moment of peace with his love. It seemed like Bucky wasn’t going to pester him about the sexual experiences of grown ups to embarrass him.

 

X

 

The degree of difficulty of the challenges increased with each passing day. At the beginning, Bucky was only intimate with him when they were alone.

Today, Steve couldn’t even have a moment of peace in the cafeteria.

Bucky simply sat on his lap and fed him cherries. When he was fed the first cherry, Steve was able to muster all his patience and ate it calmly. Second one, Steve squinted at Bucky. The brunet obviously thought it was interesting to attract the attention of the entire Island this way. Third one, Bucky smirked and licked his lips as he fed Steve, and that was the last straw. Steve stood up and placed the brunet on the dining table.

And walked away.

Sitting on the table, Bucky laughed gleefully and popped the cherry into his mouth with satisfaction.

“You think making fun of your Hachiko is amusing?” Natasha came over, glaring at the insolent teenager with disapproval. “Show him some respect in public. He’s the boss of a unit with top assassins under his management.”

Bucky looked at the red-haired woman and smirked. “Nope.”

He couldn’t make any leeway for Steve Rogers. A little room for breath and Steve would go back to hiding behind that fatherly mask and treat him like a child. He wouldn’t even think about the bone deep desires he had for Bucky concealed behind his facade of rationality.

“He’s still keeping the promise to wait for me to turn seventeen.” Bucky glanced at Natasha. “Still so honest and upright. What’s there to worry about?”

“But those top assassins would only see him as someone at the mercy of a kid.” Natasha took the bowl of cherries from Bucky. “Oh. Eight. You thought he could make it through at least eight cherries?”

Bucky tilted his head, picked up another, and popped it into his mouth. “It’s different every day. Sometimes he has better self-control, like when he has work to do. Or after he’s been to the bathroom, anyway…” Bucky’d had to go for his lessons early that morning, and he wasn’t sure how much of his harassment Steve could handle for the rest of the day. Better to take more than less.

“And you just spend the rest of the day doing nothing?” Natasha took the seat Steve had left and perched her legs on the chair. “If you really want him to forget his fatherly role, you have to take drastic measures.”

“And what do you suggest?” Bucky gave her a cherry.

“Off-island training. Trainee soldiers can participate in construction projects on the smaller islands. You can go do some cementing. How’s that?”

Bucky considered this. It wasn’t doing any good if he kept pushing Steve, and he’d had enough of Clint making fun of him, calling him Little Bambi, who hid under the protection of King Steve. He could make some contributions if he went off-island. Whether he would spend the rest of his life on the Island or not, thought Bucky as his eyes swept across the cafeteria, this was his home.

“Leaving without saying goodbye is passé, but it’s worth a try.”

“Cementing is good. Has the evening boat left?”

 

X

 

That evening when Steve returned to the suite, he didn’t find his teenager in their newly acquired king sized bed, nor was he in the bathroom.

He rummaged through the desk, searched the tv back and front, and he didn’t find any messages for him.

The next second, Steve was leaping through the window because leaving through the corridor took too much time. His first destination was the dormitories where Bucky’s buddies from the trainee soldiers lived. Some of the dorms were empty and none of the kids had seen Bucky. Then he went to the cafeteria to check if Bucky had gone there for supper because he was hungry, but none of Steve’s co-workers who had just disembarked from the boat had seen his Bambi.

“I thought he was pestering you just now?” teased Falcon as he took a bite of a rib. “Bambi’s so cute, better not lose him.”

Murder cases hardly happened on the Island. Burglary every once in a while. But these so called burglaries were simply people taking something from someone without telling the owner and then returning it too late. Such incidents usually happened among the trainee soldiers who were still kids. Steve had heard there was a murder case before he came to the Island. They were a bunch of people with weapons and the skill to use those weapons. It would be a surprise if nothing happened at all, especially when you put these people together. But that only happened once. A crime of passion. I-loved-you-but-you-didn’t-love-me, that’s how it was.

Could it be an attack? They would have sounded the alarm already. Drowned? Bucky was a good swimmer.

But even swimmers drowned, let alone the fact there were different species of sharks in these waters. Steve turned and started in the direction of the beach. There were a few couples out on a date on the beach. Everyone knew everyone in the troop, there were just one hundred and fifty of them. Taking the risk of pissing off everyone, Steve asked every single couple anxiously if any one of them had seen Bucky.

“Hey, Clint, seen Bucky anywhere?”

“Your Bambi?” Tilting his head, Clint looked at Natasha, who was sitting next to him. The couple finally had a day off for their date. They would have seen a third wheel as big as Bucky. “No, I didn’t see him.”

Natasha simply looked at Clint while he was answering the question, then looked at Steve, giving the blond the impression that she hadn’t seen the boy, either. Well, her conscience was clear since the question wasn’t directed at her.

Steve nodded hastily and continued to walk to the end of the beach.

When he came to the southern tip of the Island, Steve saw the little ferryboat returning from off-island. Bucky could have gone there for a walk.

Steve jumped into the boat before it had even docked properly. The boat was just an eight-seater speed boat and Bucky was obviously not on it. “Gabe, have you seen Bucky?”

“Oh, Steve, did you miss me so much that you have to jump—”

“Gabe!” Steve cut the man off. “Have you seen Bucky?”

“I just got back from handing over to the next shift, there’s just me.” Gabe spread his hands.

The only places Steve hadn't searched were the off-island, the hangar, and the runway. If Bucky was going to the off-island, he should have at least told Steve. The off-island was still under construction, and for fear of having the ships nearby pick up any radio signals, there was no communication equipment on the island. Steve took a glance at the speed boat and another look at the airport on the other side of the Island. He tilted his head as he sighed, and took one big stride to start the speed boat.

“Hey, Steve!” Gabe grabbed him. “You can’t touch the boat.” Defection was a very sensitive issue on the Island.

“I’m willing to take the punishment.” Steve took a glance at Gabe. “Either you sit down or you leave. In any case, I’m going to the off-island.”

“Bambi is safe if he’s on the off-island. What’s there to worry about?” asked Gabe, not understanding the implication.

Impatient to wait for Gabe to sit tight, Steve turned the wheel and steered the boat out into the sea. “But what if he’s not there?”

He couldn’t lose Bucky, Steve told himself. Bucky was the only important thing in this world for him. Without Bucky… 

Unheeding of Gabe’s warning to slow down the boat, Steve accelerated, the sound of the motor so loud even the harbor on the Island turned on searchlights to see who was steering the boat.

People on the beach were also standing up.

Natasha couldn’t see who was steering boat, but no one except one person would steer a boat like that, risking his life recklessly. She regretted keeping quiet about Bucky’s decision to do cementing on the off-island. If the kid got scared and ratted on her, she would be cement.

There weren't many lights on the off-island. Only the construction site was allowed an enormous array of lighting. Bucky had never been to the off-island before and the head of logistics doubted if he could be of any assistance, so he’d never asked him to come here. But Doug, the foreman, didn’t see Bucky that way. The moment he saw him, he waved Bucky over to help him scrape off the excess cement on the wall.

And Bucky had only been scraping for a couple of minutes before everyone heard a loud noise coming from the direction of the Island. Next came Gabe’s scream and the sound of something heavy being dropped into the waters.

Right at that moment Doug thought they were under attack. He later found out that it was Gabe being thrown into the water when the speed boat came to a sudden halt.

“All the kids get to the back!”

The next second, Steve Rogers appeared from behind the lights, looking both flustered and furious. Doug thought if there was a target for this fury, there was no other way out for that person except death. And the only person on this teeny tiny island who could elicit such an expression from Steve Rogers was none other than the kid who was scraping cement next to him just now.

“Bucky, I told you already you can’t go anywhere without telling me.”

Steve tried to tell himself this wasn't one of those trivial antics employed by Bucky to trifle with him, nor was it a game to test how much Steve loved him, or worse, a prank just to see him hit the roof. His Bucky should be more mature than these behaviors. His Bucky knew how important he was to him. The only thing he wouldn’t joke about was his own safety.

Bucky came out from behind Doug and walked to Steve, who was now standing under the light, blue in the face.

He remembered Natasha telling him that she wouldn’t tell Steve where he’d gone to.

But the whole thing was just to see how crazy Steve was for him, not see Steve crazy with anger.

Before he could apologize, Steve hoisted him up on his shoulders as if carrying a bag of cement. The blond turned around to look at Doug. “I’ll get the kid to come help you once I’ve given him his lesson.”

Bucky struggled slightly, but Steve’s arm around him was strong and he had to give up. Steve hadn't carried him like this since he was five. To have a bunch of trainee soldiers, some of whom were younger than him, witness this, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if Natasha had made the suggestion just to mess around with him.

Gabe had climbed into the speed boat, glaring at Steve and Bucky like a drowned rat.

“See? Bambi is good. He didn’t lose another hand,” sighed Gabe. “I’ll take the speed boat, okay?”

Steve tilted his chin a little to indicate he had no objection to Gabe’s suggestion. Then he put Bucky down on the seat at the end of the boat and glowered at him with daggers in his eyes.

“It’s not funny, Bucky, not funny at all.”

He knew it wasn’t funny. Acting cute was probably not going to work and for once, Bucky decided to bite the bullet and get ready for a tongue lashing.

Steve pulled him away the second the boat was docked. When they walked past Natasha and Clint, Steve waved his hand before they could say anything. “If any one of you had a part in this, we’ll settle the score tomorrow. I welcome any disciplinary action against me from any one of the Gods, but tonight I have a kid to punish.” And even though he was pissed, Steve turned around and explained warily to the others. “I mean literally, there’s no other—” What was the use of explaining when any explanation seemed redundant and meaningless. Steve let out a long sigh. Gently, he pushed Bucky in the direction of the suite as he walked behind him, stroking his head, which was pounding faintly.

The moment Bucky entered the suite, he was trapped in the small space between Steve’s arms and the wall.

“What’s with the two hours of disappearance?” Steve demanded with hostility.

Bucky was speechless, unable to give an answer.

“Have you forgotten my managing position in the troop? You think I won’t punish you?”

Bucky remained silent.

“Is it because I’m too soft on you? You think you can do as you please because I indulge you?”

Bucky lifted his head and stared right at Steve’s ominous expression.

“If this is a test,” Steve released his arms, shoulders slumping in disappointment, “I’m really disa—”

“Don’t tell me you’re disappointed!” Bucky grabbed hold of Steve’s hand in a flourish. “You don't have to be disappointed in me. What did I owe you? Why do I have to put up with all this? I’m not your kid, Rogers!”

“You don’t want to be my kid, I get it! Crystal clear! You remind me of that every day, like you’re afraid I'd forget. Every day!” Steve flung away Bucky’s hand. “If you don’t want people to treat you like a child, you should first behave like an adult, a responsible—”

“Have you ever looked at me like an equal when I’m being responsible?” Bucky cut him off. “I’ve been responsible for so many years and you still treat me like a child! No matter how responsible I am, have you ever tried or even thought that I could be an equal for you? Someone who loves you and can be loved by you? No matter how responsible I am, how obedient I am, there’s always the fifteen year gap. You’re always gonna see me as a child, a child at sixteen, a child at twenty-five. When will I ever be your equal? Your partner? You’ll never take me seriously! Never!”

“So you employed all this mischief so I would take you seriously? For sex?” Steve asked coolly. “Barnes, many people want to have sex with me, but not many get my respect.”

“Fuck you, Rogers! Fuck you!” Bucky tried to hold back his tears. “You don't even want to have sex with me, I’m less than the hooker you spent a week with in Amsterdam. How am I supposed to believe that one day, or even for a minute, you would consider me an adult? An equal?” He pushed the man standing between him and the door away. “I will grow up. If I don’t start reminding you at sixteen, you won’t even touch me when I turn thirty-six, Stag. To you I’m just an orphan under your charge, a little animal that needed your care, but you know what?”

Gripping the door knob, Bucky turned around to look at Steve. “Those talks about father and son relationship, save it for yourself. And those hopes and expectations you have for me, that love and protection bullshit, you can keep that, too. I’ve never regarded you as my father, not even my brother.” His grip on the door knob tightened. “Natasha’s wrong. This last resort only tells me one thing: what I want will never happen, and you’ll never understand.”

He opened the door and walked out. With his back facing the door, he said the words that he wanted to say.

“You’re a Stag, I’m a Buck.”

Two different words for the same animal.

I didn’t want anything else, except to be your equal.

 

X

 

Soon enough, Bucky was allotted a room for himself. A small one, in the right wing of the trainee soldiers dormitory near the cliff. The room was originally used for storage so there wasn’t any window, but under the order of the head of logistics, they knocked down the wall facing the cliff and gave him a large window and a little balcony. While the logistics team was kind enough to offer their assistance, Bucky was also doing his best. He even built himself a bookshelf.

Thor helped him move his text books and clothes from Steve’s suite. Steve watched the process with a dark face, glaring at Thor.

“Hey, he’s just throwing a tantrum,” shrugged Thor. “He’ll come back eventually. It’s good to keep a distance, he’s an adult after all.”

Everyone kept reminding Steve that Bucky was an adult, but in actual fact, he had yet come of age. The truth was: except for his emotional declaration to him, Bucky had always been a good kid in the eyes of many people. Of course he was young, but most of them knew he was a reasonable kid and they were still able to look upon him as an equal.

Even the councilor had said Bucky was more mature than Steve had thought; he accepted his punishment readily without any protest. Because of the off-island incident, Bucky had to forfeit his salary for a year, which meant he wouldn't be getting his paycheck the first year he started working. But the day would never come, thought Steve to himself. He wouldn't let Bucky work on the Island, no matter the arrangement or position.

Steve hadn't forgotten to settle the score with Natasha. He had her sent all the way to Ukraine to take out some unscrupulous businessman for monopolizing the natural gas business.

Before she left, Natasha didn’t forget to holler her thoughts at Steve while packing her things. “You’re just too wussy to admit what he said was true, Rogers. Don’t cajole him if you don’t want to have sex with him. Just tell him you’re not interested.”

Steve didn’t respond. He watched with austerity as Natasha’s chopper took off from the runway.

He was now glowering at Thor with the same austerity as the man put the books into a box. When Steve finally opened his mouth to speak, the topic had nothing to do with Bucky.

“The evaluation I sent to the Gods, is there a preliminary result?”

Thor turned his shoulder sideways to look at him. “I think Odin has already seen it.”

“What are his thoughts?” Steve walked to Thor and took Bucky’s dictionary instead of letting Thor pack it.

Thor glanced at the dictionary and cheerfully gave up taking the book back from Steve. “I don’t know. Loki is handling everything now. I’ve not spoken to Odin for quite some time.”

“I want Bucky to leave,” said Steve slowly.

“Is that necessary?” Thor stopped what he was doing and looked at Steve with confusion. “Just because of what he did? For liking you?”

Steve shook his head. “Of course not. It’s George’s last wish.” And Steve’s promise to Bucky. “He can’t do much here. Even if he’s fitted with a prosthetic, there’re other limitations. But he’s good at studying, he’s intelligent, he could get a job in the real world.”

“Any one of us could; but there’re very few of us,” Thor tried to explain. “You see, most of our children stayed and some, like Caesar, have three generations here. This is not a job that everyone can do.”

“Just think about it, Thor. I just want to know if I have the chance.” Steve leafed through the pages of the dictionary and tucked a piece of paper in it. “I know there’re no precedent cases, but I think Bucky deserves his freedom. He lost his family on the Island, this place brings him pain—” He put the dictionary into the box. “—I bring him pain.”

“All right!” Thor picked up the box. “I will ask Loki on your behalf, but do not get your hopes too high, I do not think Loki will be willing to make an exception for you. The Island is everything to Loki.”

Steve nodded and saw Thor out.

After Thor had left, Steve regarded the ginormous bed in the room, the half-emptied shelves on the desk, and the half-emptied closet. He didn’t even want to take a second look. He wasn’t used to this. All these years of living together, cramped in this room, every image of Bucky in this room had been ingrained in his mind. Steve had once thought those images wouldn’t disappear even if his closed his eyes.

But they do and they did.

Might as well, he told himself, Bucky was leaving sooner or later.

It was for the best.

 

X

 

Thor put the box on Bucky’s new desk. Most trainee soldiers had to use their yet to be received paycheck to purchase the furniture in their rooms. To say that Bucky had been sheltered by Steve wasn’t an overstatement. Bucky had never heard of taking out a loan for a closet from a certain percentage of his paycheck; but ever since he moved into this little room, he had signed countless papers stating that he had agreed to deduct a certain amount from his monthly paycheck to purchase a closet, a book shelf, a desk, a bed, a mattress, and other items.

Thor patted his shoulder and left him alone to unpack.

Before he stepped out of the door, Thor decided he might as well be the good guy since he had come so far, so he pointed at the Greek dictionary. “You would like to take a look at the dictionary.”

Upon hearing that, Bucky picked up the dictionary the second Thor left the room.

The piece of paper didn’t contain a harangue. In comparison to the lectures Steve had given him, the word count on the paper was painfully scant. Just one short sentence and Steve’s signature.

_I’m sorry I didn’t behave like a rational adult when we were fighting, but I can’t control myself when it comes to you. I love you._

_Steve Rogers_

Bucky regarded the message for a long moment in silence, then very carefully, he used thumbtacks to pin the piece of paper on the wall in front of his desk.

 

X

 

For the next six months Steve was in command on the Island, Bucky continued to live in his own room, but he started going on dates with Steve.

Of course the dates hadn't progressed to the stage he wanted. Steve remembered clearly he was only sixteen, but Steve demonstrated through his actions that he was beginning to take Bucky seriously as an adult, someone who could be his life partner in future.

Steve would wait for Bucky outside the classrooms of the single-story building where the trainee soldiers went for their classes.

“Have dinner with me?” Steve had asked that question when they spoke for the first time after their fight. “I had Merlion reserve a table where we can look at the sunset. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Bucky nodded after some deliberation.

Steve nodded, too, with slight reservations, to indicate that he’d received Bucky’s consent. “Seven thirty. I’ll come pick you up at your dorm.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’ll see you at the restaurant.”

Steve nodded again. “Okay, see you at the restaurant.”

Steve had gotten a little milky white candle and put it in the center of the table, next to a tiny potted cactus.

Plants weren’t necessities on the Island. No one would import these delicate things for romancing, but the chefs on the Island loved using cacti as ingredients and Steve managed to save one to make do as a decoration before it was eaten. He’d given it a lot of consideration before deciding on getting a book—a Russian dictionary—for their first date. According to Natasha, who was finally willing to talk to him after her mission in Ukraine, Bucky wanted to learn Russian.

With the gift and the table ready, Steve sat by the table and waited for his date’s arrival.

Bucky was wearing a simple shirt and a pair of khaki shorts when he arrived. His hair wasn't tied.

In fact, it was still wet.

Steve looked at him as he took his seat, biting down the urge to ask Bucky why didn’t he dry his hair. He didn’t want to offend him.

In the end, Steve compromised by stretching his hand out to smooth the locks hanging down Bucky’s cheeks. He complimented Bucky’s beautiful smile while trying to dry his hair a little.

On their second date, Steve took Bucky on a walk on the beach. It was in the middle of the night to see the Leonid meteor shower. While Bucky was staring intently at the stars shooting across the sky, Steve had his gaze fixed on the brunet and his hands were clutching the sand on the beach like a vice, suppressing the desire to push Bucky down and shower him with passionate kisses.

On their third date, Steve accompanied Bucky to the shooting range. Steve gave Bucky a hands on gun lesson: from dismantling a gun to assembling one, from target shooting to cleaning. He had gotten Bucky a revolver. It was light and handy, easy for Bucky to practice and maneuver. Steve gave Bucky the revolver when he took him back to his dorm, and Bucky expressed his gratitude with a kiss.

The Island was only so big. They could only do so much on their dates.

By their tenth date, Steve had already taken Bucky to five dinners, two walks on the beach, and three shooting lessons at the range. After their second date, they finally returned to the beach for a walk on their tenth date. The reason was quite simple: the beach was a popular venue for dating. Many people and many pair of eyes would stare at each other.

Ever since Steve’s Bambi had moved out everyone was waiting to see when would Steve ask his Bambi to move back home; but as the date of Bucky’s seventeenth birthday drew nearer, they were still dating like teenagers. Natasha had told Steve more than once that kind of dating was atrocious.

But Steve thought it was fine. He wanted to learn more about Bucky through this method, to look at Bucky’s world.

They would kiss, although not as passionately as they did initially, and the kisses didn’t carry any other messages. Unlike before, when Steve had used kissing to warn or appease Bucky, these kisses were just kisses. An impulse to find those lips when his brain was feeling electric and amorous.

Bucky thought it was fine, too. His smiles were more natural, he didn’t have to worry about anything or try to convince himself. He knew Steve kissed him because he wanted to. Steve wasn’t trying to prove anything, nor was he trying to convince Bucky to believe anything, and he was definitely not trying to dismiss him in exchange for a moment of peace. No, none of the above. It was a kiss. The kind of kiss that said they liked each other.

The previous Island had been located in the tropics where there was hardly any wind; there were occasional rains, but very occasional. The present Island was situated somewhere above the Tropic of Capricorn, although it wasn’t affected by the weather system on the dry lands, there were still some slight weather changes. Bucky’s birthday fell near the beginning of fall. Winter on the Island wasn’t too cold, only a little cooler; but it wasn’t as warm as during the Christmas season at the end of the year. People who weren't afraid of the cold still went for a swim at the beach. In comparison to the ocean, Bucky found the swimming pool at the training center more comfortable.

He had just finished his physical check-up. When the nurse told him that he was now five ten, he blinked in disbelief.

He was still growing in height?

He'd grown a lot during summer vacation when he was going from fifteen to sixteen, so much so that he thought he wasn’t going to grow any taller. But in the end, on and off, he’d added another two inches to his height. Maybe he could be taller than Steve?

The head of medicine took a look at his file. “Perhaps it’s time for the prosthetics.”

Sitting with his chin propped on his hand, Thor’s brows creased. “The pain is tremendous. Is it necessary? Formal military training doesn’t commence until he’s eighteen. Perhaps not?”

“The sooner it’s fitted, the sooner he gets used to it.” The head of medicine shot Thor a look. “Even if you’re one of the Gods, I’m the highest in command with regard to medicine. You do know that?”

“I don't mean to take over your job.” Thor smiled. But he knew and he also believed that Steve was crystal clear that once the electronic prosthetic was fitted on Bucky, the boy could forget about leaving the Island. Not to mention how they were going to torture Bucky so that he could adapt and get used to the new arm, and the fact that once the tracking chip was injected into his body, he would be monitored like a wild animal, living under constant surveillance.

Moreover, who knew what kind of prosthetic would be given? One for regular duties? Or one for a first class assassin?

They all knew, and the Gods probably still remembered, what an outstanding sniper George Barnes was.

And even with only one arm, Bucky Barnes still managed to handle the training for trainee soldiers.

Thor could imagine Loki’s expectations for Bucky wouldn't be lesser than any of the other trainee soldiers.

Since the death of their foster mother Frigga, during the attack of the former Island, Loki had become dauntingly cold. Loki thought the attack was the result of an inadequate discussion between Thor and the officials of the shadow UN regarding a certain issue that had provoked the organization. The responsibility of running the affairs of the Island had fallen on Loki since Odin was no longer in charge. And Thor—Thor was just Thor, unwilling to partake in any more affairs of the Island.

Loki had explicitly expressed his intention to promote Steve to the Gods. After all, he couldn’t single-handedly take care of all the affairs of the Island.

Loki had said to him dispassionately, “I have to do this, if you do not intend to help me, brother.”

Thor nodded at the head of medicine and left the medical office, making his way to Steve’s office.

Steve was just as worried as Thor after hearing about the prosthetic, but he would postpone the day as much as he could, if his words still carried enough weight. He was also grateful for Thor’s reminder. Steve had been making plans, if he was able to take office as one of the Gods, and the first thing he would do was to think of a way to have the air force send Bucky away. Falcon had spoken to him about it: if they could get the accurate schedule of Falcon’s missions, they could definitely take Bucky far, far away.

Natasha had someone forge a fake passport and a fake ID. The contents were legitimate enough to fool the local government.

Steve had everything ready. They would leave when Falcon returned from his next mission.

Steve was just one crucial step away from that position in which no one would question or doubt his decisions and orders. The Gods.

If Thor hadn't given up his authority, they wouldn't have had to go through all the trouble. Steve sighed. No one blamed Thor for what happened on the Island, but there wasn’t a single day that Thor didn’t blame himself.

The plans would go accordingly, Steve wasn’t a bit worried. As the day drew closer, Steve was more convinced that he was doing the right thing. He kept thinking about George’s face and his expression when he spoke. He thought about Winifred sobbing in front of the computer monitor. He also thought about Bucky kissing someone in the streets. He dreamed about that a lot.

In his dreams, Bucky had kissed men and women; he’d even dreamt about Bucky having children and becoming a grandfather.

But Steve couldn’t find himself in those dreams and he was fine with that. He had the present.

He had something more nerve wracking on mind: it was Bucky’s birthday tomorrow, or rather, in another five hours.

Since they weren't living under the same roof, Steve had thought about different excuses to get away from the situation; but five hours later, Bucky would be Bucky would permanently be seventeen. Steve could stay away from this day, but not his entire life. When it was Steve’s birthday in July, before Bucky had confessed his feelings for Steve, he had awkwardly given him a mug with a shield design on it. When asked where he’d gotten the design, he said it was from the comic books.

There were some comic books on the Island. One of the Predators wanted to read them so badly that he’d acquired some from second-hand bookstores while out on a mission.

Since then, most trainee soldiers would read these comic books in their free time.

The mug was made of ceramic. A long time ago when supplies were short, a kiln was built for people to fire their clay, but the thing proved to be not all that useful. When Odin had taken office, he simply ignored the existence of the kiln. Under his order everyone was required to use metal plates instead. They wouldn’t break no matter how hard you tried. Thor had rebuilt the kiln after abdicating his authority, and Bucky and a couple of reserve officers learned making ceramics from him. Bucky may have only had one hand, but the mugs he made were very beautiful. His Bucky was a fast learner.

For the entire day, Steve had been handling miscellaneous issues. A certain agent failed to cover their tracks after a job and the officials from the shadow UN called Steve to file a complaint. Steve spread his hands and told the officials they’d lost contact with said agent, causing the officials to hang up the satellite phone in a rage. Another agent was supposed to shoot a member of a drug cartel dead in his bed, but found out that the target was also a child abuser. The agent strangled the man and hung his body at the entrance of his extravagant mansion, which resulted in the president of Mexico calling Steve to give him a tongue lashing, admonishing them for their incompetence. After hanging up, Steve wondered if the president felt his incompetence as the leader of a country when he bought his resort island with the money given by the cartel.

Steve hated this job. Politics, hypocrisy, the pretense of peace.

For a long time he had been having doubts about who the people were who decided these predestined events? What gave them the right to exercise the will of God?

When Steve opened the door to the suite, he thought he should really shower, put all the idiocies aside, and have a romantic birthday dinner with Bucky. As for the rest, what would be would be.

But Bucky was standing inside the suite, wearing his usual outfit, holding a cake. An actual cake.

Steve laughed. He closed the door, walked to Bucky and pressed a kiss on the tightly clamped mouth that didn’t know what to say.

“The head of logistics had the head chef made you a cake.”

“He says it’s my big day.”

Steve was amused. He took the knife next to the cake. “Have you made a wish?”

“My wish came true,” replied Bucky softly. “Do you have any wishes?”

With a tender smile, Steve leaned in to kiss the corner of Bucky’s lips. “My wish will come true in a moment.”

He didn’t mind having cake for dinner. In any case, his actual meal would be something else. Bucky took the piece of cake that Steve had cut and regarded the circumstance with confusion: no plate, no fork. Steve finished his cake after a couple of bites, then he cut the one he’d given Bucky into smaller pieces and fed him the morsels with the knife.

When he’d swallowed with the last piece, Bucky leaned forward and took Steve’s cream covered finger in his mouth and glanced at him with a smirk. Steve chuckled. He patted Bucky’s cheek motioning him to let go of his fingers, turned around to put down the knife and the rest of the cake on the coffee table, and, without warning, picked Bucky up bridal style and settled him into the bed that he had yet to sleep in.

Trapped under him, the teasing demeanor of the boy who’d been flirting with him just now had disappeared.

In his mind, Steve knew he would remember this moment.

No matter the emotions, he felt this moment would be an everlasting memory for him and he hoped it would be the same for Bucky.

Bucky would soon have an actual life.

He just hoped that Bucky would remember him. That was the only thing he didn’t want to lose: his place in Bucky’s memory.

“Have you checked? What’s gonna happen next?” Steve nibbled the tip of Bucky’s nose with amusement. His Bucky blinked and blinked, and blinked again, heavy mist enshrouding his eyes; perhaps scared of what was going to happen, or perhaps yearning for it to happen. He should be scared if he knew what was going to unfold next.

Bucky was nervous, but the corner of his lips curled up. An unrelenting smirk. “Do you?”

Steve chuckled and reached to undo Bucky’s pants button. “Of course. Internet, so helpful. You can find anything you need. I caught up with a lot things up there.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed.

Steve smoothed the little creases between his brows. “Even I don’t really know everything.”

He could smell the faint citric fragrance of lemon on Bucky. It was the shower gel they used in the communal showers. Most residents on the Island smelled like that in the evening. Bucky used to smell like peppermint, his favorite shower gel when they were living in the safe house. When someone was away or when Steve went on missions, they would purchase several bottles to put in the bathroom.

But to Steve, the scent on Bucky was always different.

Sweet but bitter. Sweet because he knew Bucky looked forward to adulthood to become his love; bitter because that would be the lingering essence after Bucky had departed.

Throughout the whole process, Steve kept Bucky facing him. He knew lying face down would lessen the pressure of entering, but facing each other allowed him to see Bucky’s immediate reactions: which part of him drew more response when touched, where he felt strain when he entered too quickly. Steve was able to see everything because Bucky had no energy to hide nor did he pretend to, and Steve liked him for his genuine responses.

Steve hoped the next person who loved Bucky would allow him to express himself freely, so that the brunet didn’t have to learn to compromise as he grew older.

Not being on the same wavelength was an excruciating torment. He didn’t want Bucky to go through the same torment again.

When he entered Bucky, Steve could feel the tight tension from within. No one was ever ready for this.

Steve nibbled Bucky’s ear, his lips skimming back and forth behind the ear, on his neck and shoulder. His hands gripped hold of shaking legs firmly, tickling Bucky’s skin with calloused palms. Bucky smiled with effort.

It was never easy to let someone into your heart. Pain was inevitable.

Steve only hoped for Bucky to feel the blissful joy that was as intense as pain.

Bucky fell sound asleep subsequently. Steve didn’t come and he didn’t mind. In comparison to everything, he preferred to cuddle with Bucky. The weight of Bucky nestled on his chest exceeded anything else. Bucky’s warmth was just right. Steve took in the scent of Bucky’s hair. The cut was the handiwork of a friend who was also a trainee soldier. It was a tad bit messy, sticking to the back of his neck after their initial strenuous activity. With careful tenderness, Steve pushed the sticky hair away from the skin, so that the pasty sensation wouldn’t disturb Bucky’s dreams.

Steve liked Bucky’s different facades in every circumstance. Even when he was biting his lips, complaining about the pain just now.

Up till today, Steve felt he had finally seen all of Bucky.

Happy, unhappy, bliss, pain, sad, angry, distress.

And unadulterated pleasure.

Someone had warned Steve that the first time was usually uncomfortable for both parties, that it wasn’t easy to find the right position or way without previous experience. Luckily Bucky was young, and maybe he liked Steve a little too much because the second Steve took his pink length into his mouth, Bucky had turned as red as a cooked shrimp, begging for his mouth to let go of the sensitive member.

Bucky was only less shy when Steve used his hand instead. When he climaxed from Steve’s ministrations, Bucky returned the favor with a kiss. Steve grinned and gave him a deep kiss and pushed into Bucky until his arousal subsided.

Steve had ensured that Bucky had, throughout the entire process, enjoyed the essence of the deed. That was good enough for him.

Before Bucky passed out, Steve had helped him change into his pajamas: a round collar shirt, stretched from too many washes, and a pair of drawstring shorts he'd worn for training. When Bucky was fast asleep, Steve then carried him back to his little dorm room where the first rays of sunlight would spill into the room.

Steve stood outside on the balcony, relishing the first day of his life that was finally complete and whole.

He didn’t know it would also be the last day.

 

X

 

“I heard that you want Barnes to leave.”

Without warning, Loki appeared in Steve’s office.

“What makes you think you have the authority to liberate my army if you become one of the Gods?”

It didn’t take a genius to know who had told Loki. Win or lose, it was a gamble to rely on Thor for the outcome of this attempt. “He’s of no use to you.”

“But he’s the bargaining chip for your loyalty and obedience, and he’s doing an impeccably good job.”

“Loki, I will listen to whatever you say. I’m willing to kill again if you want me to.”

“You have to kill in any case, am I not right? Stag, you cannot take something that is not a bargaining chip for exchange.”

“What do you want?”

“It’s not what I want. Don’t think so lowly of me. It’s what I don’t want that you should know.”

The black-haired man opened the door to the lab of the logistics team. It was the interrogation room. Steve had been here several times to observe Natasha’s interrogation sessions. She didn’t enjoy the job but she was good at it.

To let what should happen in this world happen accordingly was never an easy task. Steve wondered if it was because Loki had been required to achieve this objective that had misled him into believing he was actually God, that he had the right to treat one’s life like dirt. “What is it that you don't want?”

“We found that if electric shock is ministered to a particular area, we can wipe out one’s memory. Not much, but adequate to retain one’s acquired abilities.”

The irony was the skills that human beings tried to so hard to acquire were not in the same region as emotional turmoil.

Loki’s green eyes were calm and level. He didn’t want those who were leaving to remember them.

“You do know the reason we don’t exist isn’t due to secrecy or counterintelligence, but because those who knew are dead.”

Steve’s hands clenched tight.

Loki was giving Bucky two options: death or memory loss. Steve saw a third alternative: kill Loki. Steve was, after all, knowledgable in the different ways to kill a man; but killing Loki was pointless. Loki wasn’t the only God. Even if Steve killed Odin and Thor, the moment there was an inkling of rebellion in the troop or the possibility of a mutiny, a massacre would happen.

The Island wasn’t big. A few containers of poisonous gas was enough to kill. Keeping someone’s life was difficult, but taking it was way easier.

But Steve couldn’t bear to watch Bucky suffer.

As if he had already anticipated this would happen, Loki brushed past Steve and said with cold impatience, “I know you’ll hate me and I’m fine with that, but we did grow up together.” Steve used to have a hard time learning foreign languages and Loki was the one who had practiced with him with utmost patience. Steve was never discouraged even when being corrected, he just stuck it out and started all over again. Loki thought that was just Steve. Steve Rogers didn’t give up unnecessarily.

Loki would never admit it, but he envied Steve for that.

“So I made the cruel decision for you.” Loki glanced at his watch and lifted his walking stick to point outside. “If you make a dash for it, you’ll be able to see his chopper leave.”

Dumbfounded, Steve stared at the apron, and the thrusting sound of a chopper’s blades blasted through the opened window.

Steve wanted to run but his legs wouldn’t listen to him.

When the sound of the chopper was too far away to hear, Steve slumped against the wall and slid down on the floor slowly.

He told himself as long as Bucky was able to leave. Nothing else mattered as long as Bucky was able to leave. It didn’t matter if Bucky wouldn’t remember him.

 

X

 

Natasha was covered with injuries. Bucky was having a Russian lesson with her when Loki’s men came to take him away. She’d engaged all her attack tactics to stop them, but she was outnumbered. After Natasha had been subdued, they threatened Bucky with her life. Bucky already had his revolver pulled out with his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot.

Even with one hand, Bucky’s hold on his revolver was steadier than those who had seen hell. But eventually Bucky had to throw away the revolver Steve had given him. It was lying in grass under the trees.

Thor said Bucky had been in pain during the electric shock.

Thor knelt on the ground and told Steve he couldn’t betray his brother, not after he’d failed to save Frigga and caused Loki’s hardship.

Thor said he was sorry Bucky had to suffer all that torment.

Steve didn’t answer him. He was still wondering how he’d be able to retrieve the ability to speak.

Loss was always far more difficult to accept than imagined.

 

X

 

Odin explained everything to Steve after he returned to the Island.

Truth was, Thor didn’t have to tell Loki anything. Stark had designed a computer defense system called JARVIS for the Island. It was able to accurately calculate and monitor any potential insurrection. Everything was computed. Gossip and somniloquies. Nothing was safe. When one lived on an island full of killing machines and weapons, one should be equipped with the most fundamental defense competency.

Stark disregarded the tracking chip with contempt. Any aggressive agent, such as Cobra or Panther, could dig out the chip from any part of their bodies and they wouldn’t flinch.

Odin also gave Steve a website. It belonged to a B&B in Santorini, Greece. The boss of the B&B was local, and his wife was an American. She’d gone to Greece for holiday after her divorce and met a restaurant chef on the island.

They managed the B&B together after they got married. The first floor was a restaurant that overlooked the cliff, with a view to the Aegean Sea; and two floors above were nice, clean rooms.

Bucky was just seventeen when the police in Guam found him. From the papers they found on him, they contacted his next of kin and soon enough, Steve saw an update on the B&B’s website: a picture of the couple and a new member.

In the picture, Bucky’s smile was small, but judging from the strength of the lady boss’s arm around Bucky’s shoulder, Steve could tell that she would treat him like her own son. The caption written by the lady said: God had taken her sister away from her unexpectedly, but seventeen years later god has reunited the two sisters through her nephew who had encountered an accident and lost all his memories.

It was at that moment that Steve realized: it wasn’t an easy task to let things happen according to plan.

But it was necessary.

The website of the B&B updated its menu every day, and posted pictures of the scenery around the island and the daily lives of the people. Bucky was included in the pictures most of the time.

There was a before and after picture of his new hair cut: short and smart, courtesy of his aunt who doted on him. There was another picture of him with a huge plate of tomato oysters and a big mug of beer. The latest update was a video clip of Bucky going to a soccer game with his aunt and his uncle. In the clip, Bucky’s uncle gave him a loud kiss because the Greek team had scored a goal and Bucky was laughing wth elation, two little blue and white Greek flags painted on his cheeks.

In the clip, Bucky was speaking to the person next to him in fluent Greek. The other person smiled and stroked his cheeks with their thumb, intimately.

Bucky now had a family and friends.

Before the video ended, Bucky delivered a long message in Greek, smiling. Steve had to wait for Bucky’s Greek teacher, Moa, to take her break from the kitchen, to understand the content of the message.

As she was done translating, Moa regarded Steve, who was looking at the screen with a smile on his face. The blond was smiling even though he didn’t understand a single word. _Are their minds connected or what?_ Moa couldn’t help but wonder as she translated simultaneously for Steve.

“To my family—I don’t know if you’re still around, Mum, Dad, or my siblings, but Aunt Joanna says she won’t give up. She believes if god can send me back to her, god will also send you back to me. I’m really happy. If you see this, come find me on Santorini. It’s the most beautiful place on Earth. You won’t regret it.”

At the end, Bucky raised his cell phone with his hand, held his head high to look at the phone, slanted his head and beamed.

When the smile faded, Steve stared quietly at the confused and helpless expression that appeared gradually on the monitor.

Every time he replayed the video clip, that was always Steve’s favorite part.

Bucky’s smile was heartbreaking. In fluent English, as if speaking to someone, he said, “Come find me, please?”

Steve stroked the computer monitor with his fingertips repeatedly. When the screen went blank, he finally lowered his gaze and fingers, and smiled contentedly.

 

X

 

During summer vacation when he was eighteen, James returned to Santorini from the university in Crete to help with the family business. He heard from his uncle that the small manor next door had been sold. Greece’s economy was at its worse that year, many civil servants were laid off; those who were able to keep their jobs had to take a drastic salary cut. Fresh graduates couldn’t find a job, and business at his uncle’s restaurant was also affected. Luckily, there was still quite a few tourists on the island, so the B&B wasn’t doing too bad. James’ uncle didn’t forget to comfort James, saying that when they’d saved enough money, they would get him a prosthetic fitting.

“I don’t care,” said James as he hugged his uncle. The loss of a limb meant nothing next to lost memories that couldn’t be found.

With the economy so harsh, James was just glad that someone was willing to buy the manor, whoever they were. At least Andreas and his wife were able to keep their job and continue to look after the vineyard; and because of that James’ aunt had asked him to take some food over to the new owners of the manor. It was a young couple from America. James’ aunt had already met them. They were friendly and looked as attractive as Hollywood stars, she said.

Standing on the slope, James could see from afar the couple sitting in the gazebo. They had each taken a position at two corners of the gazebo and there wasn’t any interaction between them.

James walked down the slope and came the door of the manor. He’d only knocked on the door a couple of times when he heard a loud noise coming from the side where the gazebo was. It took another moment before a red-haired woman opened the door with a strange expression on her face.

James peered inside the house with slight confusion as he handed over the basket to the red-head.

“Mrs. Grant, my aunt made this. It’s stewed vegetables.” There had been a blond man next to her just now. How did he disappear in a blink of eye?

“Oh, great, um…” The woman took the basket and stared at him a little too long before she finally came out with a complete sentence. “Thank you and your aunt. I think I should invite you inside for a drink, but there’s not much in here.”

James shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m just on my way downtown.”

“So you’re heading downtown to get something?” The woman took a look behind her. “Wait here a second.”

She was probably talking to her husband. James could hear her loud conversation with the man inside the house even from the door.

“Honey, the young man from the restaurant on the hill is going to get something downtown, you wanna come with him?” But James didn’t hear any reply. The woman pressed on, loudly. “Are you sure? I think it’s a rare opportunity, probably the best time in your life to take a walk downtown. You sure you’re not coming?”

Back to silence. After a while, the woman returned to the door.

“Sorry, my husband’s a little shy.” She extended her hand and smiled at James. “I’m Natasha, Natasha Grant.”

“James Buchanan.” James smiled and shook her hand. He noticed her eyes shifted momentarily on his left hand. “The doctor says the injury was inflicted when I was a kid, but I have no memory of it.”

The red-haired woman nodded. She turned her head and glanced inside again. “HO-NEY, the young man is leaving, you sure you’re not coming out?”

No reply came. James looked inside then he looked at the red-haired woman.

She smiled wistfully. “Do visit us often?”

The master of the manor didn’t seem very welcoming, thought James, how could he come here often? Nevertheless, James nodded politely and turned around to make his way to the busy town down the hill. The daytime heat had subsided by evening, cool breezes blew in from the sea. He untied the ponytail at the nape of his neck and let the breeze play with it. The red-haired woman Natasha looked familiar. Even her voice sounded familiar.

It was alway like that. Like the black man who’d spoken to James previously at work. He, too, seemed familiar. The man kept telling James he looked like Bambi, god knew what that meant. He’d taken the man’s order quickly and went on to serve other tables.

Natasha stood at the door, staring at the back of the young man, previously known as Bucky, until his silhouette disappeared down the hill.

She walked into the house and looked at the blond who’d curled up in the corner.

“He was standing right there and you didn’t have the courage to go out and see him.” What was the use of taking a detour from their mission in Turkey? Thor and some people behind the curtain had gotten some cash to Greece in the midst of the economic crisis, even a fake identity when Greek civil servants were shorthanded. Everything was set to go. In fact, after a simple handover of responsibilities of the troop, Steve would be completely liberated from all restraints.

Odin had even given Steve a concession: no brainwashing, but Loki promised there would be a crosshair aiming at his skull at all times, and he would be a dead man the second he betrayed the Island.

Steve lifted his head. This time it was Natasha’s turn to be in shock. His eyes were red-rimmed.

Steve inhaled a deep breath and stretched out his bended knees. “It’s just too difficult.” He couldn’t handle it. To look at Bucky only to discover that Bucky had no memory of him, that was too much for Steve to handle.

“It is weird. You’re looking at a familiar face, but he talks to you like a stranger,” Natasha had felt that repulsive detachment just now. The boy had looked at her. His face was just as beautiful but there was only aloofness in those eyes. “I didn’t find him cute before. I even thought your taste wasn’t that good; but seeing how it is now, I prefer the previous stubborn kid.”

Steve stood up and took a bottle of whisky. “We’ll wait another year…”

“Again?” Natasha hissed a protest. “You might as well have not come!”

“Maybe that’s a good idea.” Steve uncapped the bottle and took a gulp of the strong liquor. “Coming here to see him was—”

“Was my idea and don’t you dare say it was a mistake,” Natasha cut him off sternly. “Rogers, remember what you told Bucky? He wants you to come find him. How could you let him down?”

“He wants his family—”

“They’re all dead! You’re his family, don’t you get it?” Natasha snatched the bottle away from him.

“But he doesn’t remember, Natasha.” Steve didn’t try to take the bottle back. He leaned heavily on the table instead. “This is an opportunity for him to live his own life. A new beginning, without me. New family, new friends, new lover.”

“Bucky will be so disappointed.” Natasha smoothed the bangs from her forehead. “He tried so hard to win your heart. He’s liked you since he was a kid, and he loved you. In the end, you kicked him aside to someone else when he’s lost his memories.”

“Why don’t you ask yourself if he loved me because I was the only one he had?” Steve countered.

“We’ll never know unless you go see him, let him get to know you, and then he’ll decide for himself,” Natasha pointed out calmly. “If you’re right, this time he’ll make his choice like a normal kid and find a girl or a boy his age instead of you, old man. Then you suck it up and be the owner of this manor and sell your wine. Your work is done. What’s wrong with that?”

“Right. Stay around him and see him marry someone else.” Steve smiled woefully. “Am I that generous?”

“Then come back to the troop.” Natasha glared at the man before her. “You always wanted Bucky to press you to make a decision, now there’s no Bucky, only yourself; if you want him then go get him like an ordinary man.”

Steve took the bottle of liquor from Natasha’s hand.

“Next year.” Under Natasha’s severe glare, he repeated, “I’ll come here myself next year and I’ll find a suitable time to see him; but for now, just let me look at him from afar for the next couple of weeks.”

He wasn’t a coward. It just wasn’t easy to take the next step forward. 

“He’s grown stronger,” Natasha lowered her gaze to her heels. “And darker. He goes to college in Crete.”

“I know. He’s studying business administration. Said he wanted to help his family,” replied Steve. “I’ve spoken with Joanna. She loves him very much.”

“Andreas told me that he has a girlfriend. From high school.” Natasha had wanted to tell Steve that after he’d met Bucky. “They both work part-time at the restaurant downtown. The girl’s family owns a car rental business, and Bucky works part-time there, too. You said to tell you when you’re ready.”

Steve nodded. He knew Bucky was a good person. The loss of his memory wouldn’t change that.

“I’m going to rent a motorcycle from the girl’s shop.” Natasha cracked her knuckles.

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. “There’s no need for that, Natasha, seriously. I can handle it, and I’m mentally prepared.” He wouldn’t mind if he learned that Bucky had married the girl the next time he came here. “I just want him to know me, that’s all. A little place in his heart is good enough for me. I don’t have to be with him.”

He’d had Bucky for seventeen years. Every inch of him and that was enough.

“I should learn grape cultivation though. Andreas was kind enough to introduce me to the buyers of the previous owner.” Steve stood up straight, patted his face to brace himself. “Three weeks of vacation. I should bring some wine back for Thor as a token of appreciation. If he didn’t fight on my behalf, if he didn’t agree to resume his position as one of the Gods, I wouldn’t be able to have this.”

“You do know that he might not be able to recall anything for the rest of his life?” The head of medicine on the Island had told Steve, without reservation, that brain trauma was irreversible. The only miracle for Bucky was that his brain was still young, and he might have a one in a million possibility for him to remember.

“I don’t need him to remember,” stressed Steve. “It’s good enough for me that he notices me and knows my existence.”

“I think I heard Bucky crying.” Gloomily, Natasha turned her gaze to the vineyard. “He’s saying you didn’t even give it a try for him.”

Steve sighed. He unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, rolled up his sleeves and walked into the vineyard.

 

X

 

“Your neighbor was here yesterday.” Smiling, Daniella walked to her best friend and hooked her arm around his only arm. “My mother told him your uncle is a great chef. If he goes to your restaurant for meals, remember to give me a call.”

“You don’t care that he’s married?” The brunet unhooked his arm and picked up a bottle of water and with a small smile, refilled it for a patron.

“They don’t seem like a happy couple to me. I’ve seen them several times on the main street.” The blonde girl smirked and turned to refill for another table. “They walked separately. One on the right, the other on the left, with the road between them.” Picking up the empty dishes, the girl hooked her arm around his and walked to the kitchen. “Who knows? I might have the opportunity to go to America. I heard that they’ll be leaving soon.”

“Andreas told me they’re only here for vacation.” James picked up the salad plate. “They’ll be back next year.”

“That’s why I have to grab the opportunity.” The girl gestured. “He’s taller than you. Well-built and handsome, and he’s gentle when he smiles.” Then she frowned. “She, on the other hand, doesn’t seem so nice. She looks fierce as if it hurts for her to smile. She came to our rental the other day. Looked at ten, twenty motorcycles, asked a ton of questions, and just left.”

James smiled and brushed the bangs off the girl’s forehead. The first time James laid eyes on Daniella’s blonde hair, he’d gotten an intense vibe from her; her blues eyes, and even this gesture now gave him the misconception of familiarity. Maybe someone in his family was blonde. “You get difficult customers all the time. She’s not the only one.”

“The thing is, I think she was there to give us trouble.” The young girl sighed as she picked up another plate of salad for her friend. “He, on the other hand, never comes to rent any vehicle from us. I think he walks instead. I have a bike. You think I should take my bike to the manor and lend it to him?”

James nodded. “Of course. Do as you please.” Noticing a table gesturing for him to take their order, he pressed a kiss on his friend’s cheek. “I have to work. Get back to your shop.”

Believing the young man was only patronizing her, the blonde went back to the rental shop next door, pouting.

Natasha was standing in the cafe opposite, watching the whole scene. She creased her brows as she took a sip of her unfiltered Greek coffee and turned to Steve.

“His girlfriend grabs every opportunity to be with him, even when he’s working. Looks like he’s gonna get married next year.”

“She’s pretty. Tall and slender,” Steve’s brows were also folded. He hadn’t taken his coffee, but his mouth tasted bitter. “It’s really great.”

“Great?” Natasha rolled her eyes. “You’re crazy. You had sex with him, Rogers. That’s your boyfriend, not your son. You should get rid of the woman who’s trying to get cozy with him, not applaud her looks.”

“I think it’s really great.” Steve finally took a sip of his coffee. “…Today’s coffee tastes watery?”

Natasha rolled her eyes again. “You can’t even taste the bitterness in the coffee. You must be sick.”

Steve smiled, stroking the handle of the cup back and forth. Quietly, through the deep-colored large windows, he watched Bucky working at the al fresco restaurant. Bucky didn’t smile a lot, very much like when he was a kid, ever since what had happened to his family. Bucky kept a straight face most of the time, but he was really efficient. Unless you looked hard, you couldn’t tell that he'd lost a hand.

“Europeans don’t even give you chairs when you’re having coffee,” complained Natasha. “Can’t we just go the restaurant he works at? We come here for coffee so many times even the boss knows us.”

“You could go. I heard that the owner of the restaurant gets white wine from the manor, you could go and confirm the contract with him.” Steve took another sip of his coffee and finally saw the coffee grounds in the cup. “They don’t filter coffee here?”

“You finally noticed that today?” huffed Natasha. “I told you that the first day and how many weeks has it been? I complain about it almost every day. I’d rather use my investigation skills than stand here and have coffee.”

“I want to confirm all the contracts before we leave.” Steve wiped the corners of his lips with his thumb. “Our Assyrtiko is growing well this year. Andreas thinks we could make some really good white wine. I think next year’s profit wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Are you seriously considering the stupid plan of growing grapes and keeping watch next door for the rest of your life?” Natasha shot a look of disbelief at Steve. “I’ve known you for eighteen years. Are you always that stupid?”

“I’ll leave at a certain point. Probably when he has his first child, or when he gets married, I don’t know. But there’ll be such a time and I’ll leave.” Steve watched the young man go inside the restaurant with plates in his hand. “We should leave the cafe now.”

Steve frequented Joanna and Oretis’ restaurant for his meals when Bucky went to work downtown. He was usually alone because, according to Natasha, she despised such amateurish investigation methods. Steve could handle human interactions and socialize all he wanted.

Steve never asked about Bucky. Joanna was conversational, and Steve was a fellow American, so she shared, voluntarily, many stories about Bucky. Bucky, whom she called James, must have had been living in Europe before his memory loss because he spoke many European languages with exceptional proficiency. He was intelligent and adapted to the local education almost immediately after arriving in Greece, but she didn’t let him attend the university in Athens because she didn’t want him to stray too far away from her.

That day, Natasha insisted on coming to the restaurant with Steve and he didn’t refuse her.

But whatever Natasha did, she did it with a purpose. As the evening approached, more and more customers flowed into the restaurant. Steve was aware that the time for Bucky to come back to handle the register at the counter was also drawing near. Smiling, Natasha was still talking about the impact of cosmetics and make-up with Joanna, and every time Steve stood up to leave, Natasha would pester him and nudge him to sit down.

When it was finally eight in the evening, the brunet, who had just turned over his shift, opened the restaurant door and entered. Almost simultaneously, Natasha called for him cheerfully, “James? We were just talking about you with Joanna. Why don’t you join us?”

James furrowed his brows tightly upon hearing that, but his footsteps moved in their direction.

At the same time, the blond man, whose back was facing him, stood up and leaned over to give Joanna a friendly kiss. He said, “Looks like Natasha is enjoying herself. I’ll let her stay and take my leave.”

Then the man walked past a couple of tables with purpose, turned sideways, and left from the back door of the kitchen.

He didn’t even bother to look at James.

Natasha’s expression darkened immediately. Joanna, who was sitting opposite her, was taken aback by her murderous look.

James was already at their table. He looked at his dumbfounded aunt and the neighbor who was sporting an affronted expression, not to forget the other neighbor who had just left in a hurry. “Did something happen?”

Natasha shook her head and curled the corner of her lips. Luckily, she had a back up plan. “James, I understand you know how to fix a wall. The brick wall in my room is getting a little loose, could you come help me fix it tomorrow?” The bricks she had knocked loose this morning came in handy now.

The brunet looked at his aunt. Without objection, she smiled at him.

“Sure, is eight a.m. fine? I start work at ten.”

Natasha grinned, wide and bright. “Absolutely.”

The next morning, Steve woke up to find his feet chained to the bedposts with two big chains from the garage. He’d thought the glass of wine he’d drunk yesterday was weird and Natasha had told him it was due to the ratio of combining different grapes. Steve tugged the chains forcefully, but they didn’t seem to budge a bit.

To make things worse, the brown-haired young man suddenly walked into the bedroom at that very moment.

“Uh…” James averted his line of sight to avoid looking at the man chained to the bed. Awkwardly, he tilted his jaw. “I have an appointment with Natasha. She mentioned something about the wall of the master bedroom…”

Steve exhaled a sigh. He didn’t reply.

“Sorry to interrupt.” It wasn’t news that his neighbor didn’t like him, and James wasn’t going to invite ridicule upon himself. He was ready to turn and leave the room to look for the mistress of the manor, but he’d only taken one step when the man on the bed said slowly—

“…Bucky…”

For reasons he didn’t understand, James found the name intimately familiar. More familiar than bumping into those familiar faces on the streets.

Turning around, he stared at the man confusedly. “What did you just say?”

The blond lowered his gaze and made no eye contact with him. “Nothing. Could you untie me? My wife loves to play around.”

James nodded and came over to the bed. Such bedroom antics were unique, James thought, as he unlocked the chains.

The man rotated his wrists when he was finally freed from his predicament. Noticing the eyes of the young man on him, Steve turned around with embarrassment and sat up on the other side of the bed. “I can fix the wall myself. You can go now.”

“I…” the young man behind him spoke. “Did I do something wrong?”

Steve turned and saw that familiar expression on his Bucky’s face. Confused and anxious, like a lost child.

“You don’t like me.”

 _That’s impossible!_ Involuntarily, Steve’s body shook a little. He wanted to deny that, but he didn’t know how to articulate his feelings to the brunet without scaring him. He didn’t know if the young man who was now leading a happy life needed him to interrupt the serenity.

While Steve was contemplating, James thought he might have had over-reacted and he shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s fine. Pretend I didn’t say that. I… could you let Natasha know on my behalf? I came up here because I didn’t see anyone around. It’s all my fault.” After some frantic explanations, James backtracked a few steps until his back came into contact with the door frame and turned to leave.

And Steve didn’t stop him. Sitting at the edge of the bed in self-abandon, he held his head in his hands and buried his fingers in his hair.

 

X

 

For three consecutive years, the couple from the manor did not appear.

Until one day Andreas came bearing gifts from the manor. According to him, the owner of the manor had returned the day before and had asked him to bring over some Christmas presents. James, who had started working at a bank downtown, looked at the present the owner of the manor had specifically given to him. He unwrapped it to find a box of handmade cookies. He picked one up. The cookie was hard and dry and had way too much oatmeal.

But it tasted familiar, like he’d had it many times.

“You should wait till the 26th to open your present on Boxing Day, sweetheart.” With a smile, Joanna kissed the top of his head, then his cheek. “Can you take some tomatoes to our neighbor as a token of our appreciation and invite him over for dinner on Christmas Eve?”

James furrowed his brows. “But he doesn’t like me.”

Joanna said sternly, “He’s our neighbor, sweetheart, and you can’t accuse people without evidence.”

Compelled to take the tomatoes, James left the house unwillingly. His aunt pushed him out the door without even letting him change out of his shirt.

He knocked on the door of the manor. It was dusk and Andreas was probably off duty. It seemed like the person who was going to answer the door would be the owner of the manor. James looked at the tomatoes in his hands anxiously. That man always made him restless. Just the thought that he disliked James made him so miserable. Why?

He waited for a long moment, and no one came to answer the door. James decided to leave. Just as he was about to go, he heard the sound of the door opening gradually.

The man was standing behind the door, looking at him quietly.

“…We planted these tomatoes.” James gave him the tomatoes. “Christmas Eve. My aunt invites both of you to come over for dinner.”

“I’ve divorced,” the man replied slowly. “Can I still go? Alone?”

James didn’t see why not. “Of course. I’ll let her know.”

“James.” For the first time, the man called his name. He couldn’t help but lift his head to look levelly at him. The smile on the man’s face was stiff. “I heard that Daniella got married.”

James frowned. “Yes, to her boyfriend.”

“So the two of you…” The man hesitated a second. “Were not together?”

“No.” Bewildered, James cocked his head sideways. “I thought my aunt had told you about my memory loss.”

The man nodded.

“I’d rather find out more about my past. I feel like there’s someone very important in my past.” James considered how he should explain himself properly. “I don’t know if it’s my family or someone else…” After some contemplation, James spoke again. “Anyway, except for this person in my past memory, I don’t want anyone else, man or woman.”

The man took a few steps forward and murmured softly, “So you do remember some things.”

James wondered if he had heard wrongly. “What?” What did he remember?

The man pursed his lips then he reached out to touch James’ face. He didn’t say another word, but smiled with content.


	2. Epilogue: In Santorini

James was found unconscious in Guam by a passerby. A couple of days later, the police found his wallet and passport in a trash can not far away from where he was rescued. He was an American and his mother’s name was found in the system. The interesting thing, however, was that his mother had been reported missing before he was born. When he was five, she was declared dead in absentia after the time frame for missing persons had expired. From his birth up to the moment he was found, no records of his previous life—Where he lived? Who he was with?—could be found at all.

And he had lost his memory, suffered an external brain injury: he had no idea who he was, what his name was, where he had come from. Absolutely no memory.

The system indicated he still had a relative. An American citizen, Joanna Buchanan. His aunt.

The American police had asked her to come over from Greece. Joanna had never heard of her sister’s son.

“This isn't funny. She was only seventeen when she left home.” That was what Joanna told the FBI agents when they walked into the hospital. But the moment she saw the boy in the bed, she was positive that she was not mistaken. He had her sister’s eyes, downturned at the corners. But to the FBI agents, facial features could be modified through plastic surgery, nothing was more accurate than DNA tests. And when the results came out, no one could explain why, but Joanna was, undoubtedly, the boy’s kin. The FBI did a thorough background check on Joanna, more than once, and their discovery only indicated that Joanna was an innocent American citizen.

They checked her education background, tax records, and nationality, and came up with a summary of Joanna’s life: high school graduate, supermarket sales clerk, supermarket junior executive, got married, got divorced, left the country, got married, had American and Greek dual citizenship. Average and ordinary. She didn’t even have a speeding ticket because she didn’t drive. From mail and e-mail communications to library records, the FBI dug up whatever they could and found nothing suspicious.

But she had a nephew, whose life was blank like a clean slate, from her legally dead sister.

The Greek government wasn't as suspicious as the Americans and they quickly accepted the dependency application of the boy and gave the boy, who had fallen from the sky, a Greek citizenship for him to start over.

At first, Joanna and Oretis were worried that the child had to learn Greek from scratch and they had considered moving to Crete or other places in Greece that had international schools, but when they started to teach him daily conversation, the boy, who was quiet and hardly spoke, and stared out with vacant eyes, conversed with Oretis in Greek.

They didn’t tell the FBI about it. Joanna thought it definitely wasn’t a good sign.

There weren’t any schools on the island, so they had a discussion with the boss of the car rental service downtown, and asked her to take care of James on Crete. In the meantime, Joanna also travelled back and forth between both islands to keep him company. Although he was listless at first, he became more cheerful after spending more time with Daniella. James’s life may have been a blank piece of paper, but that didn’t prevent him from blending in to the school’s environment. On the contrary, he wasn’t especially affected by his disability; he got along quite well with it. James never looked for trouble in school and took care of himself all right. Soon enough, he exhibited the qualities of an intelligent child.

Oretis encouraged him to go to university to make more friends instead of dwelling on the fact that he couldn’t remember anything from his past.

Joanna always considered the past bad, even when James thought the opposite. So as he struggled to create new memories, he couldn’t help but cocoon himself in the blank void of his past most of the time.

His present life was gradually drowned by the blank of his past when Grant appeared. Like a key that couldn’t find a lock, James couldn’t put a finger on those peculiar feelings Grant gave him and he couldn’t tell if this was good or bad. Just the other day, he left the vineyard in a hurry because he didn't know how to decipher the other man’s message.

The next day was the last working day before the Christmas holidays and the bank was flooded with people. James was swamped the entire day and he wasn’t expecting his neighbor to be his last client of the day.

His neighbor was wearing a white button down with a pair of grey pants, looking the part of a successful businessman. But he seemed uncomfortable in his outfit, the first three buttons of the shirt were already unbuttoned and he kept tugging at the shirt collar as if it was too warm for him. Seeing how miserable the man was, James asked his co-worker to get him a glass of water. The blond was a little bewildered when he was handed the glass but he took a couple of sips.

James first verified the personal details of his neighbor. Then, after making sure that everything checked out, he proceeded to transfer the blond’s overseas savings into his account with their bank. It was a substantial amount of money. James only took a glance. There was nothing strange about it anyway. There were many islands in Greece, some were even privately owned, so the amount of money wasn’t massive enough to startle. Billionaires owned more than that after all. However, in the last couple of years, funds were mostly transferred out of Greece. It was rare to have money transferred into the local banks.

Then again there were people who thought that Eurozone had nothing to worry about because whatever happened, Germany would be there to take care of it.

James didn’t manage elaborate affairs like those. He was just an ordinary bank clerk. Oretis didn’t want him to hustle like them. He wanted James to get a job while he was still young and then marry a nice girl. Greek weddings were joyous. James had been to a few. Daniella’s wedding especially wasn’t just a wedding, it was a celebration.

But James thought nice girls didn’t seem to attract him. From behind the computer, he snuck a look at his neighbor. A sigh echoed in his heart as he placed the blond’s bankbook into the machine. Most transactions were computerized now. People handled their finances without a bankbook. “Mr. Grant.”

The other man smiled in response and for a second James forgot what he wanted to say.

Wait, that was too unprofessional, much to James’ chagrin. He turned the man’s bankbook in his hands before he finally remembered what he was going to say.

“Have you considered electronic billing? You have a credit card with the bank. Once the card is activated, you can make your payments simply by tapping on a reader without having to receive additional billing information,” he elaborated as he lowered his head to inspect his work. It was quite unnecessary to stare at his computer, but much more comfortable than looking at the blond. “Of course the functions of your credit card remain. You can choose your preferred method of payment, it’s just another option. Would you like to consider?” He had to look up when he was done speaking and the moment he lifted his head to look at the blond, the man replied immediately.

“Why not. I’ll let you handle it.”

He nodded and began to process the request.

Then he looked over the man’s previous transaction records and decided his credit card limit was too low. He lifted his head once again to look at him and this time he was finally immune to those blue eyes. “Would you like to upgrade to a platinum card?”

The man smiled. “You can process it all if you deem it necessary.”

James nodded. By now the previous account would be connected to the credit card and the next step would be to upgrade the credit card. Throughout the entire process, the man fixed his gaze on James with a tender smile on his face. That made James exceedingly anxious. On the one hand, he wanted to speed up the process, but on the other hand the thought that the blond was going to stand up and leave once everything was done made him doleful. The funny thing was: James had always thought the blond didn’t like him, and even so he couldn’t hide somewhere far away. For some reason, James wanted to be near him. Right now the man didn’t seem to dislike him, but his actions only confused him more.

Overwhelmed by all these conflicting emotions, James couldn’t help but stop what he was doing and look at the blond.

“All done?” Steve’s smile disappeared. He tried to recall what materials he had given James. He couldn’t have the brunet find out he had to deal with all this simply because Steve wanted to stare at him.

James shook his head, hesitating to speak.

“Anything wrong?” Steve arched a brow. James went to Athens regularly for more intricate brain check-ups. Stark had the report, of course, and nothing pointed to the possibility of James remembering anything. But, as Steve had said, he didn't need James to remember anything; he just wanted to be able to see him. He wasn’t ambitious.

“I…” James couldn’t find the words. Should he ask Steve why he looked so familiar? Or should he ask Steve if he’d known him from before? Because if that wasn’t the case, why did Steve say he still remembered some things? What did James remember? So many questions to ask, so many things to say, and it all boiled down to one unrelated sentence. “Natasha… Why did you two break up?”

Steve was surprised that was what he wanted to know. “She met someone. I set her free.”

“She met someone? Why?” James was stunned. The man before him was perfect: his looks, his job, even his financial status. It was difficult to find fault in him. Why would Natasha want to find someone else?

“I’m too boring for her. She needs someone more interesting,” Steve blurted from the top of his head.

And that reminded James of the day when Steve had asked him to unlock him. “Boring…”

“I am boring.” Steve thought since there was nothing to withhold, there was nothing to hide, so he gave an account of the story that he and Thor had come up with. Fortunately, he'd gone through this with Natasha a gazillion times, so much so that he felt as if he was truly living the life of Steve Grant. “I grew up in America. New Yorker. My family was very poor, so I started working at a really young age. Paper delivery, the slaughterhouse, dock worker, sailor. I saved some money for investments. It didn’t yield much, but it’s still some fortune. Then I gave my money to Silicon Valley, sold my shares before the social media I invested in got listed, and I decided to find a small island to spend the rest of my life.”

James listened to him speak without interrupting him.

So Steve went on to talk about his life in the vineyard. “Now, every morning after I wake up, I go take a look at the grapes with Andreas. He teaches me and his son how to grow grapes. You know his son, Ioannis. Andreas says sooner or later he’ll retire and Ioannis will take over, but I still gotta learn. I find it interesting. The soil, the weather, the rain.” He counted with his fingers. “It all has to do with grapes.” In the past, all these things had to do with assassination, too. How far you could strike, what the wind direction was, which explosive to use for what topography. Steve smiled wryly. There wasn’t much difference except the former yielded an abundant harvest while the latter laid everything to waste. “Natasha doesn’t think she wants to be tucked away here to live in obscurity. She doesn’t want to grow grapes.”

“I do.” He didn’t know why, but James just blurted out his thoughts.

Steve was stunned. “What?”

James came back to his senses and realized what he'd just said, a slip of the tongue. Too embarrassed to even correct himself, he gathered the almost completed materials and the bankbook, slid them into an envelope and pushed it into the hands of the man sitting opposite him. “Your new card will be ready after Christmas. You can activate your card by phone or online…”

Steve wasn't letting him go so easily. Instead of taking the envelope, he gripped the brunet’s wrist. “You do?”

 _She doesn't want to live with you, but I do._ James shouted in his heart. He was aware how absurd his thoughts were and he was too startled to repeat them, so he struggled out of the blond’s grip and took a step back. After a couple of seconds, he decided to repeat his lines regarding the credit card. “The new card with be here after the holidays.”

Steve furrowed his brows, wondering if he had heard wrong. But he didn’t say another word and managed a smile. “Understood.”

The moment Steve left his office, James had the urge to end himself by slamming his head onto the computer. It seemed like his obsession with blue eyes and blond hair was beyond his control.

How could anyone blame him for being so eager to regain his memory? He still remembered the initial days after he was rescued. He’d refused to accept any treatment until a blond doctor with blue eyes came to calm him down. Who was the person who had left such a morbid preference in his life? Who the hell was this person with blue eyes and blond hair? Why were they so important that even when James had forgotten who he was they were still in his memory?

 

X

 

He left the office from the side door and saw Grant standing there with an umbrella. It was raining outside, but the blond was holding the umbrella, not holding it up.

“I don’t recall seeing anywhere around your table—” Steve wondered how to explain his ability to memorize everything in an environment, inside out and at a glance, “—an umbrella, but it’s raining.”

“Why didn’t you open the umbrella?” James walked forward. He tucked his suitcase under the armpit of his amputated arm as he took Steve’s long umbrella and opened it. “You can wait for me under the umbrella instead of getting yourself wet.”

Steve couldn’t tell James he wasn’t sure if James wanted to share an umbrella with him. “You go ahead first. I need to get something else.”

James frowned. “I’ll go with you.”

Steve didn’t reject him. He reached out for the umbrella. “Let me.”

The way to the supermarket required them to pass through some houses. James led the way quietly. Steve knew how to get there, but he walked a little behind James to make sure James was entirely sheltered by the umbrella.

They had gone grocery shopping a lot when they were living in the safe house. Steve didn’t allow Bucky to have too many candies because there was no dentist at the base, and he didn’t want Bucky to have cavities. But Bucky was a stubborn kid. The more he wasn’t allowed to do something, the more he wanted to it.

Steve saw a bag of candy that Bucky used to like when he was a kid. When he was just about to take it, Bucky had already picked up the candy.

“I like this candy.” James looked surprised as he turned the packet to have a closer look. “How come I’ve never seen this on the island before?” He used to buy a lot of this candy when he was in university. Crete was bigger and the supermarkets there offered more varieties.

Ordinarily, he made his purchases in smaller stores, but they had come to one of those foreign supermarkets found in Europe that offered lots of merchandise from all over Europe and also exports from America, thus the candy.

“You remember this candy?” Steve asked softly, half hoping he didn’t hear his question, half wishing for a miracle.

As if hearing the question for him, James turned his head. “I remember?”

James tilted his head and put the candy back on the shelf. “I liked it when I was in university. It’s easier to get it on Crete.” Then he turned his head again and looked the man with suspicion.“You—” Did he know something about James? “Have you seen me before?”

Steve was quiet for a long moment before he spoke. “We met three years ago, didn’t we?”

No, James didn’t think it was three years ago. “You said you were a sailor.” Even though James knew it was impossible, he still asked the question. “Is it possible that you might have seen me somewhere…? Maybe my family…?”

 _I am your family_ , Steve wanted to tell him, but that was unfair not only to George and Winifred, it was also unfair to Joanna and Oretis. He just rubbed the tip of his nose. “I don’t recall anything special. Don’t worry,” Steve picked up the bag of candy James had just put down, “you’ll remember sooner or later.”

Or never.

James was waiting at the entrance after Steve checked out. It was the rainy season and the downpour hadn't eased. They still had to share the umbrella. It should be so. When Steve got closer, he saw James holding an extra umbrella and he returned Steve's umbrella. “The cashier at the register is my classmate. He lent me an umbrella.”

Being near Grant stressed him out. He always felt the urgency to remember his past whenever he was around him, but even when he looked back into the void, he didn’t know where to start. Joanna had told him not to get too anxious. He was still young, he could start accumulating new memories now.

He had accepted her reasoning, but the existence of Grant, and those familiar faces he’d met on the streets, something in his brain kept nagging at him to search the void. It wasn’t that he didn’t try. He did and there was nothing there but a vast darkness. Even Grant wasn’t in there.

Having separate umbrellas put him more at ease. The scent of Grant, the smell of peppermint, had spread over to his side, with a hint of rain. He felt, somewhere inside him, a dull throbbing pain. He knew he had woken up in a military hospital and the doctor had told Joanna that his memory loss probably wasn’t an accident. Apart from a conspiracy, if the memory loss had been manipulated, the possibility of recovery was still plausible.

The nature of this pain was new to him. Grant… Even when strangers on the street gave James a sense of déjà vu, the familiarity of Grant was so much more intense than that. If he knew James, why would he hide the fact? He said he didn’t know James, but he kept asking him questions about his memory.

Why? After a few steps, James called after the man under the other umbrella. “Mr. Grant.”

Steve turned around when he heard James’ voice.

“If you know me, would you tell me?” James knitted his brows. “I don’t think you understand, but my memory is very important to me. I’m willing to devote my whole life to looking for it. So if you know anything about me—”

Steve couldn't help but wonder how much he could reveal, and even if he came clean with everything, it might not help Bucky in recalling his past. “If I knew anything,” Steve tried to soften his tone, “I would tell you, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can say.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. James sighed.

This was the second time Steve had heard him sigh. The last time was when Steve had refused to sleep with him. Fate was a cruel thing. Steve had always possessed something the brunet wanted: previously it was love, this time it was memory. Both of which, Steve felt—he covered his line of sight with the edge of the umbrella—were not in his ability to provide straightaway.

“I was wondering,” said Steve hesitantly from under the umbrella, “if… you would like to come to the vineyard when you’re free.”

James looked at him. Those blue eyes were speaking to him with familiar emotions, emotions he didn’t understand but suggested intimacy, and for that he was willing to give it a try. “Can I come by later?”

Steve nodded. “Of course.”

He smiled, walked a few steps forward, closed his umbrella and positioned himself under Steve’s umbrella.

He could learn to get along with the anxiety and yearning that was suffocating him. Maybe one day something good would come from them.

And so James began the routine of going to the manor after work, before going home. His initial excuse was to learn grape cultivation, but Andreas watched him with disapproval—most likely having caught on to how he only looked at the owner of the manor while learning to grow grapes. James ducked his head to pluck pests from the leaves while sneaking glances at the blond man who was consulting Andreas in the other row.

As time went by, James spent more and more time at the manor. One day, as James was seeing Andreas out, the elderly man appraised him with bewilderment, making him a little embarrassed; but he still pretended to be ignorant and sat by the dining table in the yard, regarding the lines on the table with feigned interest.

Steve had the dishes soaking in the sink and he was surprised to find the brunet still sitting there when he came out.

The man sitting there had the unique candor that belonged to a young man. He was resting the upper half of his body on the table, moving his fingers back and forth around the candle flame, casting dancing shadows on the expanse of the wall.

Candle lights reflected on his face like they had on their first date on the Island. Steve walked to the table, pulled a chair and sat down opposite him. “Having fun?”

“I’m warming my hand,” he explained softly. James was still staring at the flame. “It’s already spring, but it’s still a little cold.”

“Is it spring already?” Steve recalled. “Your birthday—” He regretted that the moment the words slipped out. They had never exchanged each other’s birth dates, and of course the brunet raised his head upon hearing that and regarded him with surprise.

Another moment went by before the young man turned his gaze back to the flame. “Asking for someone’s birthday is a good way to evoke inappropriate associations.”

“I do hope you’re making those associations.” Steve’s voice wasn’t too loud, but it was loud enough in a yard with only two people.

“Hanging out at a place so near to home—” James covered the tea light glass with his palm. Lacking oxygen, the flame went out. The only lights in the yard were the stars blinking above and the lights from the houses afar. Steve heard the sound of the brunet moving. His night vision wasn’t bad, but somehow his sight was more blurry than usual. “—requires doing something more complicated than hoping.”

Steve felt James’ arm encircling his neck from behind. And his scent followed soon after.

He turned his head sideways and kissed him instinctively. After all these years, Steve couldn’t suppress himself any longer and deepened the kiss. This was everything he wanted but dared not ask, and even now he wasn’t sure if he was entitled to have this kiss.

When the kiss ended, Steve tried to find James’ eyes in the dimness of the night.

“You really don’t know me?”

Steve fixed his gaze on the pair of eyes. They were perplexed, yet laced with sharp intuition at the same time.

“No, I don’t.” He wasn’t lying. He didn’t know James Buchanan. He was confident he could pass the polygraph.

The arm left his neck. Steve couldn’t bear to lose the warmth that he’d waited so long for, so he reached out to grip the brunet and pulled him back little by little.

“I’ll ask you one last time.” The hand was back on him, touching his face. “Are you the person I’m looking for?”

Steve exhaled a long sigh. “Bucky…”

“You used to call me that.” Then James sat down on his lap.

He hadn't forgotten his habit of being so clingy. Steve adjusted his posture to allow some room for his rationality.

“I won’t ask.” A thumb traced the line of his lower jaw while James' stump went to his arm, motioning him to come closer. “But if… it’s something bad, I won’t ask what really happened in my past. As long as you’re the one I’ve been looking for. Steve…”

The name was the last straw, Steve thought, as he lifted his head to find James’ lips and kissed him fervently.

 

X

 

Joanna was spending her free time downtown that day and decided to have her lunch there. The boss of the restaurant came down from her apartment upstairs and sat down next to her with high spirits. In her hand was an order form and on the form were two signatures, one belonged to the boss of the restaurant and the other signature, as Joanna took a closer look, belonged to James. The signature of her James.

“What form is this?” She read the Greek order slowly. Her Greek had improved a lot throughout the years, but it was still far from excellent like her James’. “Grant’s wine? Why was it signed by James?”

“Your James said the American had to take care of some orders at the packing factory. He said he can sign on behalf of the American. Not long after he had signed, the American came to pick him up. Daniella says she saw the American kiss him. Your James.”

After all these years, the boss of the restaurant still maintained the one-sentence structure of her English. However, that didn’t prevent Joanna from getting information.

James visited the vineyard frequently. Could it be more than gossip through the grapevine?

She finished her meal restlessly, as if on pins and needles, then she went to the rental shop next door and saw, as she had hoped, Daniella. The pregnant blonde was taking an inventory of the motorcycles. Seeing Joanna, a beautiful smile blossomed on her face as she walked toward her. “Joanna!”

“Daniella.” Nervously, Joanna gripped her hands tightly. “I have something to ask you. You saw Grant kissed James, is that true? Or are you not sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” The blonde woman kissed Joanna’s cheek. “Isn’t that great? James is in love. He’s finally stopped dwelling on the past and is finding his future, just like you said. You should be happy.” She appraised the woman before her and with uncertainty and asked, “You… aren’t happy about it? Is it because—”

“No, I’m not unhappy,” Joanna smiled nervously. “It’s just that Grant…”

Whether it was Natasha or Grant, Joanna had to admit both of them were strange. Andreas had said that the two of them probably only took two hours of sleep each. He'd seen Steve walking in the vineyard at all times of the day (or night), wide awake. Andreas had even seen Steve running in the hills by the beach in the wee hours. It could be his morning run, but his speed was so much faster than an ordinary person’s. In fact, judging from their physique, one could say both Natasha and Steve were athletes and no one would doubt that.

Of course she could be thinking too much. They could just be two workout fanatics.

But now that Natasha and Steve were divorced, there was no way she could figure out Steve’s identity. Ever since his return, Steve hadn’t come to their restaurant for dinner as often as before. According to Anita, he now ate with her and Andreas. Joanna hadn't seen Anita for a while, and the last time she saw her from afar, Anita had run away immediately, as if Joanna had scared her.

Could it be that Anita knew?

Truth was, Joanna didn’t care who James was seeing. As she made her way back up the hill, she thought over the situation: if there was such a person, she hoped to know about it before the entire island did.

She didn’t consider herself James’ mother, but before Winifred showed up, she was willing to assume the role and take really good care of James.

James may be of age, but she could still be concerned about his relationships. She wasn’t interfering, she was just concerned. Moreover, glancing at the wooden door of the manor, she reached out to knock on the door. Grant wasn’t forty yet, was he? She had heard Natasha mentioned their ages, and she remembered they weren’t really young, but her James was only twenty-three.

Wasn’t it better to date someone younger?

As her thoughts tormented and worried her, the door opened. It was James. He looked at Joanna as he always did and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “It’s so hot out here, come on in.”

Joanna followed her baby into the manor, but she pulled him aside after a couple of steps. “Are you seeing him?”

The question stunned James. He deliberated for a while before answering. “If the answer is yes, would you be unhappy?” He knew how much Joanna wanted him to settle down with a girl. Now that he was settling down, it was with a man.

“Why would I be unhappy?” Joanna thought for a second. “But do you know what he’s done in the past?”

“He had several jobs.” James brushed the bangs hanging down his forehead aside. “But he’s not a bad person.”

What bad person would say they were bad? “I’m not saying he’s a bad person. Do you really know him? Why did Natasha leave him?”

“He says Natasha had no interest in grape cultivation.” James frowned as he stroked his aunt’s red face. She seemed angry. “Are you mad?”

“I’m not mad.” Joanna didn’t want to beat around the bush. Nervously, she asked, “Isn’t he a little too old?”

Steve happened to overhear the question as he approached them. Embarrassed, he was about to backtrack, but his eyes had already met James’ rueful smile, and he had to continue walking toward them. “Hey, Joanna.”

“Steve.” Joanna smiled, embarrassed. “James is here with you…”

“Yeah.” Steve looked at James who was blinking at him. Wistfully, he wrapped his arm around the brunet’s shoulder while the latter had an arm around his waist. “I asked him over to help me with the Greek. He’ll be taking care of the contracts and deliveries in the future. I’m not shrewd at all and he was a business major. I’ll feel more reassured if he takes charge.” He gazed at the brunet who was blinking at him again. He let out another wistful sigh. Then, as if in agreement, tilted his head sideways and pressed a kiss to James’ cheek. “I didn’t have the time to visit you because it’s harvest time.”

Sensing the woman’s discomfort, Steve released his hold on James’ shoulder and held his hand instead.

James lowered his gaze to their hands. He adjusted the angle slightly and intertwined their fingers.

Always thoughtful, Joanna nodded and reached out a hand to pat her nephew’s face. “Are you coming home for dinner, sweetheart?” Then, slightly embarrassed, she shot a glance at their interlaced fingers. “If you’re not too busy today, perhaps Steve could come, too?”

“Of course. I’d love to.” Steve grinned, without waiting for an answer from the man next to him. “I’ll bring a bottle of wine from last year.”

Watching the exchange between them, the brunet finally smiled. He dipped his head to kiss his aunt.

“See you at dinner. Could you please let Oretis know I want mussels?”

Joanna smiled. Eyes sparkling wet.

Mussels were the first meal they made for James when he came to the island. He didn’t know who he was and he couldn’t even tell them what his favorite food was. Eventually, Joanna had gone over and wrapped her arms around him as he stared out blankly on his seat. She’d kissed the top of his head and reassured him gently, “That’s not important. You’re home, you can have anything you want.”

From that day onward, whenever James was asked what his favorite food was, his answer was mussels. That was his first memory after he was reborn again.

“Of course you want mussels, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're interested, I'm also [here](http://yensasha.tumblr.com).


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